


Hanger in a Closet

by numbateme



Series: Hanger In A Closet [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Canon, Bad Blood, Christianity, Closeted Character, Coming Out, Dead People, Drama, Drunken parties, F/M, Homophobia, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Overdose, Pills, Religion, Therapy, Ultraviolence, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-04-13 03:40:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 78,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4506345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/numbateme/pseuds/numbateme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And that’s when it really sinks in.<br/>And that’s when it hits Harry.</p><p>That these god damn drugs won’t fix him.</p><p> </p><p>or where Harry overdoses to forget he is gay - for Louis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. [Prologue]

If Tom Daley and that Youtuber Troye Sivan could come out of the closet, then so could I.

Or maybe not.

Or maybe I could just be a hanger in a closet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the first book to a 4-part book and they are:  
> 1\. [Hanger in a Closet]  
> 2\. (Spin the Harry)  
> 3\. - bulletprxxf lxve -  
> 4\. spaceS  
> 5\. when we were OLDER
> 
> enjoY


	2. [This Is Me]

_++_

_Uh, it’s been getting harder every day. If he was still around everything would be okay – **Jake Miller.**_

_++_

 

 

Fuck my life!

Modest! Management and HJPR brought us into their office to talk about Liam’s tweets. He was lashing out at fans on Twitter for knocking his hotel door at 5AM in the morning and turns out that was a bad idea (clearly) because not only was Liam being lectured, so were the rest of us… but this happened four months ago, why are we getting a lecture about it now??

Like I said, Fuck. My. LIFE!

“This applies to you too, Louis,” Jill says, the head of HJPR, “not just Liam. You keep swearing on Twitter and Facebook and it’s spoiling your image and think about the parents of your fans…”  
  
“What about them?” Louis asks, with a tinge of frustration.

“They’re very young!” Jill points out. “12, 13, 14 years!”  
  
“That’s not true, most of them are 17, 18, 19 years,” Louis smirks, mimicking what Jill was saying.  
  
“You think this is hilarious Louis?” Mark , a pouty, wrinkled man, raises his voice from beside Jill.  
  
Zayn joins in, “If it was we would be laughing.”  
  
“You are all impossible!”  
  
“You mean improbable?” Louis smirks, once again. I think somebody’s been watching _Big Bang Theory_ and improving on their vocabulary considering Louis’ vocabulary is shit. Absolute crap no doubt! No wonder he failed A Levels the first time, hehehe…  
  
“And Niall Horan, stop being mean to every fan you reply to especially the update accounts,” Jill continued her list of wrongdoings the loveable band One Direction had done… or more like, doing because it’s still continuing.  
  
“One fan came to my backyard, how was I supposed to react?” Niall asks angrily. “Invite her for tea?”  
  
“Let it pass quietly like how Harry would do it,” Jill answers as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Looks like something I would have done… or Zayn. Actually if fans went to Zayn’s mansion no one would’ve have known.  
  
“They were in my backyard,” Niall says, pronouncing each word slowly and as usual Jill and the losers on the other side weren’t getting the point of anything… actually, I was drifting off I wasn’t listening anymore.

Or more like debating whether to go for Justin Bieber’s 19th birthday tonight. Yes, you read that right. _Justin_. Justin and I are actually pals but not as close as Nustin (that’s Justin and Niall’s ship name B.T.W) of course, what freak am I? Back on topic, his party is tonight and _everyone_ is going… I mean everyone! Robert Yuick, Luke McDouglas, Kingston (obviously), Ed Sheeran, Conor Maynard, Kanye West was going to make an appearance, Jimmy Nashont … are these men I’m listing only? Oh, my gay is showing.

 

***BEEP* 1 new text message**

**_Nick:_ ** _Try sneak out or whatever! You have to come for this party!!! >:-( XO_

 

So maybe, somehow, in a way, sort of I am not going for his birthday party. OK OK hear me out, I’ve got two reasons: 1) because Modest! said so. Something about not associating with the wrong crowd (Justin falls into this category) and 2) I didn’t feel like it. OK, maybe number two was a lie. I DID want to go but if I go, I will be photographed which leads to Modest! seeing the photo and long story short, I’ll be in shit.

 

***BEEP* 1 new text message**

**_Ed:_ ** _What’s this? Nick and King are telling me you’re bailing? What the fuck mate?_

 

Maybe I should go. I mean, what’s so bad about a _birthday party?_  
  
“Why can’t any of you be like Harry?” Jill asks, shifting my attention back to the room. _Are they talking about me?_

“Because we’re not Harry,” Louis says, with a tinge of frustration. I was hurt by his comment to say the least, I act like I don’t care that Modest! keeps telling the lads to be more like me but it’s annoying because it causes friction between me and the rest. I always feel like they’re on one side of the court and I’m on the other, alone. Like always.

“Harry’s a mature lad who doesn’t swear, get drunk at parties, lashes out at fans, is online constantly, doesn’t obnoxiously follow a ridiculous amount of fans,” Jill narrates my good qualities. Or whatever, I really don’t give a fuck anymore. I stopped giving a fuck when I started crushing on my bandmate Louis… beautiful, gorgeous-

“What’s wrong about following fans?” Liam asks. I smile because obviously the shoe fits…  
  
“Everything is wrong! You break a billion hearts for those who don’t get followed,” Jill reasons out.

 

***BEEP* 1 new text message**

**_Unknown_ ** _: Hey thiz iz Justin! I gt ur # 4rm Nick … and he tellz me u ain’t comin 4 my partie…_

 

Did people not learn to spell in high school? Oh shit, did he even go to high school?

 

**_Harry_ ** _: Hey Justin! I’m not sure if I’m coming but I will RSVP .xx_

 

“Harry Styles is the one all of you should emulate,” Jill continues as I roll my eyes. _Here we go again_ , I sigh. Everytime we have these meetings they all turn to me and say how “good” I am, how “behaved” I am and how “composed” I am than the rest. How I am not messing One Direction’s image and all that shit. And it’s because of this I was the popular one: I get followed by paparazzi’s, I get asked to do radio interviews without the rest… it’s become the norm nowadays however because we’re not close anymore so it doesn’t hurt as much. I just wish I went with Louis…

“See all of you for recording on Wednesday… oh hold up, that’s tomorrow,” Mark concludes and out we all are and into the black minivan. I sat in the passenger seat, at the front with Paul, our bodyguard, and the rest behind. Yeah, it’s true. Even behind closed doors, I’m not ‘close’ to the others. The media always shows me as this lad who goes to LA and spends three-quarters of my time there or when we’re on tour I’m never with the lads… well, it goes deeper than just the media. Even in ordinary day-to-day life rounds, I’m not with them. It’s not _them_ , it’s _me_. Like right now they were behind talking about how Jill was a whiny, single bitch who needed to get laid instead of releasing her anger on us and I was at the front, texting my best pals.

Some of it could be my fault as to why we’re not close anymore, I guess.

 

 ***BEEP* 1 new text message**  


**_Nick:_ ** _Are you ignoring me baby doll? XO_

 

**_Harry_ ** _: Absolutely yes! .xx_

 

**_Nick_ ** _: Why the fuck is you not coming for Justin’s 19 th?_

 

**_Harry:_ ** _What? .xx_

 

**_Nick_ ** _: Stupid autocorrect. Why the fuck are you not coming for Justin’s?_

 

**_Harry_ ** _: Why did you give him my number? .xx_

 

**_Nick_ ** _: 2 convince you, dumbass_

 

**_Harry_ ** _: And how’s that working out for you? .xx_

 

**_Nick_ ** _: I thought you said you wanted to take charge of your life no matter what management says XO_

 

**_Harry_ ** _: …says the radio presenter! .xx_

 

**_Nick:_ ** _Shut up_

 

“We’re here!” Paul announces.

“You guys should come over, I got _Shrek 4_ on Blu Ray,” Louis says.  
  
“Yeah sure, it’ll be just like old times when we’d all watch movies and stuff together,” Liam smiles fondly at the memory while I groan on the inside. _Fondly_. Great, they were coming? Don’t get me wrong, I love these lads… my best friends [no, not sarcasm] [who am I kidding? They’re not my best friends haha]… where was I? Oh yes, I love Liam, Zayn, Louis and Niall but we can’t always bloody be together twenty-four seven. How would you feel if you stayed with your friends for nine months on end? Suffocating, right?  
  
With worrying lines forming on his forehead, Niall asks, “Do you have food?”

Sassy Louis replies, “No, that’s why we have a fridge filled with food.”

I got off the van and walked ahead of them, ignoring calls from King and Nick. I jammed the key into the keyhole, opened and slammed it on the person walking behind me’s face.  
  
“What the … Harry!” Oh, Zayn. Ignoring him, I locked myself in my room, opened my One & Only a.k.a my diary [yes I do keep a diary, don’t judge], grabbed a pen and wondered what thoughts to flood _Entry 047_.

_Dear Diary,_

_-Knock Knock!_  
-Who’s there?  
-Honey!  
-Honey who?  
-Honey boo boo!

_That ↑was a good joke, innit?!_

_It’s been long hasn’t it, 2 months to say the least since our last meeting, my little banana. It’s been terrible actually. Everybody is always up in my face, the paparazzi constantly taking pictures [remind me to take them to court..], Zayn always wanting to go to get inked with me, King, Ed and Nick constantly inviting me to wild parties… well, I’ve grown to like them but I’ve kept them on a minimum because there are photographers at King’s parties all the fucking time, seriously it’s getting frustrating and if Modest! sees them, I’ll be killed which is why Zayn stopped partying after that night we were in a club in Aussie._

_But everyone loves a rebel. Which is what dear, sweet Jill warned us about, we should **not**_ _be alcoholics, ungrateful twats… or whatever she said. All I heard was “be perfect” which is what I’ve been doing for 3 fucking years and it’s getting exhausting pretending to be something you’re not._

 _No, not yet my little banana, I haven’t come out of the closet but I will… I don’t know when but I will but I don’t know how_ to _:(. I wish Dad was still alive, he would give me advice on what to do about me coming out and to stop being just a hanger in a closet. I wish he hadn’t jumped. I wish I was there when he was about to… to stop him or something… Oh look, a new text message B.R.B_

 

***BEEP* 1 new text message**

**_King:_ ** _What the fuck Harry? Ed’s telling me you’re not coming._

 

I drop my pen down and see my caller’s ID, it was Ed calling. I bet it was King’s idea for him to call me.

“It was King’s idea I swear,” he blurts out after I say “hello”.

“I knew it,” I roll my eyes. “Say it quick before I cut the phone.”

“I was going to be quick twad and I will,” Ed says, a little infuriated. “Why can’t you go to the party?”

I roll my eyes, this time fearing they’ll slide out of my orbits. “You know why.”

“Modest! doesn’t control you Harry,” he says gently, a little too gently. The type of gentle that would make you question the questions that everyone asks such as ‘Who am I?’, ‘Why do we exist?’ and such.

“It does.”

“Listen to me, you need to fight back from Modest! Louis did it and they got off his back and rumor has it Liam is breaking free but not you Harry. You’re forced to date people you don’t even like,” he says.

“Emily Ostilly was a beautiful-”

Ed finishes the sentence with “video vixen” before I could. “I am fighting back in case you haven’t notice.”  
  
“Not enough,” he continues.

“They have a few things over my head like oh I don’t know, my family!” I say my voice sounding sarcastic.

“What can they do?” he asks. _What_ can _they do_ , my inner god asks me too. _They can’t kick you out of the band obviously, you are the face of One Direction_. “They can’t kick you out of the band,” Ed continues to say agreeing with my inner god. “Besides, you have a few things over their head don’t you? I know Modest! has a lot of dark secrets that you can use over them like Elounor.”

“That’s one thing the fandom got wrong, Elounor actually exists. Louis loves her.”

“No fucking shit, are you serious?” Ed asks, his voice screeching through the phone.  
  
I giggle, shaking my head at his surprise. “It’s obvious they’re together but I guess you wouldn’t notice.”  
  
“I’m sorry Harry,” authenticity clear in his voice but it ended in a second. “Anyway, I know you can find a few things off Modest! because the PR industry keeps a lot of vile, dark secrets that could bring down their own business.”

“What are you suggesting Ed?”

“Forget what Modest!, HJPR or the paparazzi want. It’s your life Harry, do what you want.”

“Fine,” I give in.

“That’s the spirit,” he cheers. Even my inner god wasn’t one to back down on the cheering. I grab my pen and burn the pages within:

_That’s it! If people love a villain, a villain I shall give them! I’m going to stop being the gentle Harry the paparazzi want, the kind Harry HJPR want, the non-cursing Harry Modest! prefers… the villain that will shock the world._

_This. Is. Me._

_Styles .xxx_

 

I slam shut my diary, feeling adrenaline rushing through my veins, my eyes full of vigor, my hair waved with passion for being different. It didn’t matter if I couldn’t come out now, I needed to be myself and by being myself I was going to show the world that I was my own person, governing my own rules and regulations… I was going to Justin Bieber’s birthday party.

Well, that sounds _gay_ now.

I dial Nick’s number and on the first ring he answers.

“Waiting for Prince Charming to call,” I greet him.

“There’s no one else but you,” Nick glows.

Excitedly I say, “I’m in!”

“Yes!,” Nick cheers. “What changed your mind?”

“You did,” I smile, knowing how to hit Nick’s buttons to work to my favor… or if I wanted to get some tonight.  
  
“Man after my own heart,” Nick says, whispering the end of his sentence. _I got him_ , my inner god curtwheels. “But seriously, what changed your mind? Was it Louis?”  
  
“What about Louis?”  
  
“You know what asshole!”  
  
“I’ve avoided him for 3 days straight and I would like to make it to a week for once thank you very much,” I point out.

“I don’t know why you’re avoiding him, it’s not helping your situation.”

“Stay out of this,” I warn him.  
  
He casually asks, “So?”

I groan, seeing Nick wasn’t dropping the issue of why I decided to go to Justin’s birthday party.

“Ed talked to me,” I explain.

“Did he sing _Kiss Me_ to you? Because that always works.”

“No and I need to get ready.”

“Please tell me.”

“At the party.”

He attempts to sing Lily Allen’s song _Fuck you very much_. “Fuck you, fuck you very much.”

“It’s a good thing you’re a radio presenter,” I smirk through the phone.

“Fuck you.”

I chuckle, “Hard?”

“I’m hanging up!”  
  
“See you kitten.”  
  
I could hear him groaning under his breath muttering something about “getting hard”. “Stop teasing me you dweeb.”  
  
“I love you.”  
  
“Bye!”

I log onto Twitter and see 8765 Interactions, 987 Mentions and 59 DMs. I clicked on ‘read all’ on the DMs [do they actually think I spend my time reading their DMs? _haha losers_ , my inner god laughs], clicked on my interactions to remove the stupid warning sign thingy and click on ‘Compose Tweet’.

 

**_Harry Styles_ ** _@Harry_Styles 10:39PM  
He who is brave is free._

 

****__  
Ed Sheeran _@edsheeran 10:40PM  
RT @Harry_Styles: He who is brave is free _

 

****__  
Just King Hoe _@JUSTKING 10:45PM  
@Harry_Styles this is what im talkin about_

 

****__  
Nick Grimshaw _@grimmers 10:46PM  
@edsheeran @Harry_Styles @JUSTKING we’re going to have so much fun XO_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOO HOO
> 
> im working my way around ao3 and it's quite tricky but i'm sure in a couple of days/weeks we'll all be laughing at how i was ao3 illiterate =p


	3. [Loser of the Year]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry distances himself even further from Louis....

_++_

_Always feeling like the outcast – **Jake Miller**_

_++_

 

“Alright fellas, one more time,” Paul Roberts, our choreographer calls out.

It’s the fourth recording session we were having and it’s full blown crap. We’re singing songs off the Take Me Home album, something about not killing our vocals because we won’t be singing for a long time since we’re on holiday… FINAAAALLY!! I can go out partying, go shopping, spend time with my friends… and hang out with my favorite lovely, older sister, Gemma. She’s fantastic to hang around with especially when she comes on tour with me (when she’s not at uni studying her ass off) she just makes the tour more tolerable from being around _him_ all the time.

“I feel like my lungs are going to collapse in my throat,” I say out loud, after singing _Little Things_ bridge for the third time. I probably should stop smoking two cigarettes at a time or else I’ll be panting like a donkey for walking FIVE STEPS! Louis, who was standing near me in the studio, snorts and mutters “stop drinking a lot” under his breath. Before I can reply Liam begins signing the most annoying, overrated song we’re ever done…

“You’re insecure, don’t know what for,” Liam sings, clearing my throat for my part coming up.

“Louder Harry, I can barely hear you,” Paul shouts across the room. “Niall run around, taking the crowd with you.” I sing louder for the chorus as Niall dashes across the studio doing his theatrics, Liam and Louis doing some weird dance move off _Glee_ or whatever.

“Where’s Zayn?” I ask, once Paul gives us a break.

“If you were more of a friend than a stranger to us then you would know,” Louis sneers, looking directly at me. Those piercing blue eyes. The eyes that I fell in love with, the eyes that make it so difficult to live freely as an open, proud gay singer.

“Are you going to tell me or not?” I ask, ignoring the heart within me doing cartwheels.

“Why are you acting like such a clown?”

“I hate clowns Louis and you know that!” I frown, shuddering at the thought of clowns coming near me with their nonsensical jokes and ugly faces. I don’t get why people find them funny… let alone bearable near them.

“Why are you acting like a douchebag?” Liam asks.

“I’m not. I’m the same Harry you all know, nothing’s change,” I lie through my teeth. People think I don’t lie because of my curls and cheeky smile but lucky for me, I became a pathological liar easily.

“You’re never around. You’re always with Nick and Kingston all the time,” Louis says, his arms folded in front of his chest tightly.

“And Ed,” Zayn adds.

“If you’re so jealous why don’t you ever say anything?” I question.

“I do,” –he takes a step to me – “Yesterday I suggested we watch _American Hustle_ but you refused because you had to go to Justin Bieber’s birthday party” – he snorts at this point –“ and that’s not all. You’re always locked up in your room, behind that stupid laptop doing heaven knows what. The only time you ever leave is” – he takes another step towards me –“when you go to a party that Nick or Kingston texted you about and you leave right away without a word, you don’t even invite us.” He pauses and looks at me in the eye asking me a question that makes me feel like my heart sank faster than the _Titanic_. “What happened to us, Hazza?”

“Not-”

“Nothing” Louis finishes my sentence, his face dangerously close to mine. I swallow hard, thanking the heavens for hearts beating silently or Louis would’ve heard it. “’Nothing happened between us.’? You don’t even care about your real friends only your cockhead friends.”

“Shut up Louis!”

“I’m just trying to figure out why you’re so distant nowadays,” he says, his voice softer.

“Maybe you should stop,” I mumble.

“Do your cockhead friends know why you’re like _this_?”

“Nick?” I ask. ‘Cockhead’ is the nickname Louis gave Nick and I don’t why though, it’s like Louis gets bad vibes off Nick. I look at him without saying a word and he turns into angry Hulk in 0.675 seconds.

“You should probably go live with them since they’re you’re mates.”  
  
Automatically I scream back, “Maybe I will.”

I stomp off, leaving those two there and push past Paul and into another room. I hit my head against the wall, fighting off the tears that want to come off. _Why am I being mean?_ , I ask myself. _It’s not your fault_ , my inner god replies.

“Of course it is,” I shout, sliding down to the floor. “I keep pushing people away from me. I pushed my dad away from me and look at what happened to him. I pushed away my mother and haven’t talked to her since the X Factor auditions and I’m slowly pushing Gemma away. And soon, I’ll push Louis away.”

“Harry,” someone asks. I look up and see blond hair tucked under a black beanie looking at me.

“Hey Niall,” I greet him, forcing my paparazzi smile. He sits near me, smelling a tinge of alcohol on him.

“Party hard last night, McNialler?” I ask.

“I hate you, you know,” he says. Confused I wonder why then I remember: Justin’s party. Niall is a huge fan of Justin, probably the biggest Belieber there is! I think he’s even the lord of the fandom… all hail Lord McNialler. “Why didn’t you tell me you were invited?”

“We were told not to go,” I shrug.

“But you went!”

“I’m sorry Niall, next time I’ll invite you,” I promise him, my smile still in place.

“How did you know I went drinking?” he looks at me. “I don’t wanna know but I do wanna know is what’s up with you and Louis?”

“What do you mean?” I ask obviously knowing what he means but my brain was busy setting up its motion in its expertise of being the World’s Greatest Pathological Liar.

“You guys were arguing a lot,” Niall says with a worried voice. “I thought you were the best of mates. You guys were so inseparable back in the days until the Larry Stylinson rumors came about.” _And Eleanor_ , my inner god adds.

“Whatever,” I mutter.

“You act like you don’t care Harry but I can see the fake smiles you put for everyone including me, the fake laughter you have around us like when Liam cracks a joke. The fake façade you wear around… it’s like only time you’re not _you_ is when Nick is around, “he says thoughtfully. “What’s it all for? Why are you like this?”

Say nothing, I command myself. I have perfected the act of keeping cool around people who were trying to penetrate my bubble of perfection. No one should know what’s behind the bubble, even if it means pushing the ones I love.

Coolly, I respond. “People change.”

“So suddenly?”

“You’d be surprised!”

“But not you,” Niall says. “You’re Harry Styles for crying out loud. You’re the cheeky, flirty Hazzabear we all know.” _Knew_ , my inner god corrects. “We miss that Hazza.”

“I’m still the same,” I smile, making it not so stretchy and not too wide or I may end up like the Joker.

“If you are then watch a movie with us tonight,” Niall challenges me. “To prove you’re the same Hazza who sang _Isn’t she lovely_ at X Factor.”

“Whatever you want.”

He jumps up from his position in glee muttering to me “You’re not going to regret this.” and walking out of the door.

“Oh and Harry,” – I look up –“ I know you have a secret, I can see it in your eyes. Whatever it is, it’s eating you up and it’s killing you inside along with those around you.”

**+**

**+**

 

***BEEP* 1 new text message**

**_King:_ ** _Hey this is Nick and I lost my phone. We got plot for tonight at Toto Blues, heard Tristan was comin. You in man?_

Tristan is this socialite _diva_ whose always at parties, fashion shows, galas… really anywhere with a champagne glass and vibrant colors. I met him as Nick’s “friend” (I later found out, Nick never knew him but Nick knew I had a mancrush on him!) at a club and from there we just hit it off. His jet black, quiffy hair, brown, tinkling eyes, rosy lips and yummy perfume [ahh yes his PERFUME is amazing!] he wears mesmerizes me everytime we touch and kiss. And don’t forget his gorgeous American accent. I could literally hear him talk all day about fashion shows, his acting career… oh, I forgot to say Tristan acts in _American Horror Story._

 _Ugh,_ why does he ooze with sexiness?

I know!

Of course we’ve never gone past second base maybe because the World’s Biggest Cockblocker a.k.a Ed Sheeran, somehow interrupts us every single time. Maybe tonight I’ll be lucky…

 

**_Harry:_ ** _Of course! .xx_

 

Shit! I can’t go. I promised Niall I would stay for movie night with the lads.

 _But Tristan_ , my inner god pleads. He does have a point, Tristan is very hard to meet nowadays. Always busy with his acting career and fashion shows, I groan inside. I thought my celebrity and flirty charms would work but he’s one of those cocky, conceited, stereotypical gay people who thrive on attention regardless of who you are. One of the reasons why I like Tristan really, he doesn’t care that I’m _the_ Harry Styles, just that I’m Harry. Or the Harry that accidentally stepped on his shoe and he slapped me with rings on his knuckles.

Whateves.

 

**_Harry_ ** _: I can’t come, sorry .xx_

 

**_King:_ ** _Why not? TRISTAN IS THERE!!_

 

**_Harry:_ ** _I promised the lads we’d watch a movie together .xx_

 

**_King_ ** _: Are you 12 Harry!??_

 

**_Harry:_ ** _You don’t get it!_

 

**_King:_ ** _You don’t get it Hazza, Tristan Soten is going to be there and guess who’s not coming? Ed Sheeran so maybe this time you’ll get some ass._

 

**_Harry_ ** _: Fine, I’m in! What time? .xx_

 

**_King_ ** _: Come now! I heard he’s there already XO_

 

**_Harry:_ ** _Be there in 5 .xx_

 

I grabbed my jacket, car keys and shut my room door heading for the main door.

“Where are you going?”

I turn around and see the four lads sitting comfortably around bowls and plates of snacks… are those Oreos? Yum!

“Out.”

 _But there’s no booze,_ my inner god searches.

“What happened to your promise?” Niall asks, his eyes shooting daggers into mine. I flinch and look elsewhere, my phone beeping.

 

***BEEP* 1 new text message**

**_Ed_ ** _: Heard Tristan is going to be at Toto Blues. Carry lots of condoms, tosser._

 

“Seeing your cockhead friends again?” Louis asks.

“Bye guys,” ignoring their hurt and confused looks, I sling my green jacket on one shoulder and head towards the door. I hear footsteps walking towards me from behind. I unlock the door and walk out without turning back.

“Are you seriously not going to look at me?” I heave out and turn to face the love of my life.

“What?” I ask him rudely. I mentally punch myself in the stomach.

“I’m just trying to understand why you’re so cold to me nowadays,” he questions, his eyes filled with melancholy. My mind rattles in its cage, screaming out in anguish and pain at being cold to him. I swallow hard and count to five. I didn’t want to have _another episode_ in front of him again.

“I have to go,” I simply say and shut the door behind me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far, so good. I didn't realize that ao3 can allow you to download PDF fanfics =D


	4. [Sleeping Beauty]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets up with his crush, Tristan Seton...

_++_

_I don’t know why I love you._

_I just know I can’t stop thinking of you._

_Oh wait, it’s cause you always make me smile ~ **Kylie Andrews**_

_++_

Pain.

Pain pain pain.

Pain in my butt area.

And strong perfume.

I flutter my eyes open, the pain magnifying by ten and squinting by the huge light into the room.

This isn’t my room.

Not Nick’s room either…

Where am I?

I try turning but something as thin as a pole is pinning me to the bed. My breath hitches when I realize that I’m not _just_ shirtless but stark naked. Oh gosh, what happened last night? _Let’s see,_ my inner god retraces my drunken steps. _You’re fucked!_

Thanks, I murmur.

“Hey princess!”

I snap my neck to the morning, raspy voice near me and lo and behold! it’s my crush Tristan _Seton_. Midnight memories come flooding in quickly; I left Louis at our apartment, met up with the lads at King’s house and off we went to Totos Blues club.

“You don’t remember last night do you?” he asks, as if reading my thoughts. I shake my head and he smirks [oh is that a dimple?]. He shifts on the bed and straddles me, skin against skin, the lower part of my body becoming a problem. “I remember something though.” He winks at me, his British accent slowly seducing little Harry. “Looks like someone is knocking my back door.”

Don’t get a boner, I scream internally.

“I don’t remember anything,” I confess, trying not to focus the compromising position I was in right now. If Nick or King ever saw me like this I would never hear the end of it. Nevertheless, I try to engage all my senses into everything I’m feeling right now before I lose it all; Tristan’s finger trailing my clean-shaven chest leaving a fire trail behind, his morning voice that’s literally made of sex, the tastes of expensive alcohol still lingering on his lips that now are burning into mine and his eyes, his beautiful chocolate eyes.

_Fuck me now_ , my inner god screams.

“You were very seductive with your curls Sleeping Beauty,” he says, his index finger trailing my chest, in between my sparrow tattoos. _Your ugly birds_ , my inner god sneers. “Your British accent was calling for me last night … and I must say I’m never impressed but you” – he stops on the trail on my V-lines, his eyes fixated on me – “made me want you more than anybody I’ve ever wanted before.”

Is this real? Was Tristan SETON saying I seduced him so hard last night?

This. is. a. crappy. joke! A joke that I was loving nevertheless. I mean, who isn’t happy when your fucking crush is sitting on top of you and mumbling about how seductive you are… **who is not happy?**

But I had a problem though. “How come I don’t remember anything?”

“You took so many pills last night that you went blank… and to be honest it scared me at one point,” he confesses, his seductive muse off. I place my hands on his shoulder and gently pull him down to my lips. “You freaked me out Harry.”

“Shh, I’m here, aren’t I?” I sooth him, and kiss him straight full on in the lips with a tinge of sweet alcohol of drunken nights. But kissing my crush was a miracle, a “dream come true”; “Heaven on earth”; “what I’ve been waiting for” and all those stupid cliché phrases that equally describe this moment. I didn’t care that this was just another one night stand that obviously wouldn’t lead to anything else. It was release for me. A release I’ve been waiting so long for and I count myself lucky it’s Tristan that’s _my_ release.

“Ah!” I shout in pleasure when Tristan surprisingly inserted 2 fingers up my bum hole.

“Should I just fuck you like I did last night?”

“I don’t remember last night,” I say, adjusting myself. _Your boner a problem, Styles?_ my inner god chuckles. “I need a reminder.” He need not be told twice as he pushed 3 fingers in now, the pain in the morning mixed with pleasure and anticipation releasing an orgasm. At least this time I would remember having sex with my crush. I cradle my fingers on the nape of his neck and pull him down to a hungry kiss. He replies with anticipation, his tongue playing battles with mine, expensive champagne filling our mouths.

“But I’m hungry,” he says flatly. “I’m making pancakes.” And out pops his fingers, his butt jiggling out of the room.

 

***BEEP* 1 new text message**

**_Liam_ : ** _Where are you? We have a recording to do!!_

 

Oh crap, was that today? I mentally slap myself because we’ve been practicing for the last 2 weeks everyday so why was today an exception? Of course we had a recording to do.

 

***BEEP* 1 new text message**

**_Nick:_ ** _911! Louis is asking me questions I can’t answer… Louis, Harry, YOUR Louis! XO_

 

Oh this is bad. Louis and Nick **never** ever talk under any circumstance which I find nothing wrong with because let’s face it, not everyone is meant to get along with everyone, right? But these two take it further and can’t stand together in a room… in a room, no matter how big or small it is, they just can’t. Over the months, it’s become an issue since Louis thinks he influences me badly something about “negative behavior” and Nick thinks Louis is holding me back from coming out. Ironic, really, because he’s the reason…

“Harry,” Tristan calls from downstairs. “I need some help.”

“Coming,” I call out.

 

**_Harry_ ** _: Cover for me, please! .xx_

 

**_Nick:_ ** _Why? What’s Tristan doing to you? XO_

 

**_Harry_ ** _: We’re making breakfast and I have a recording to do… please cover for me .xx_

 

**_Nick:_ ** _He’s texted me threatening to kill me if I don’t say where you are. XO_

 

**_Harry_ ** _: Gaah screw this I’m calling you .xx_

 

**_Nick:_ ** _Picking up the phone…_

 

“Where the bloody hell are you?” he answers his phone, his British accent very distinct at this point. Nick’s voice becomes stereotypically British whenever he’s irritated or on the verge of an angry outburst.

“I’m at Tristan’s place and I need you to cover for me!” I explain.

I hear a gasp and a muffled scream before he speaks. “Bloody hell no, I don’t like Louis and I’m not speaking to him. He’s very worried about you I can tell despite him calling me a cockhead.”

“I can’t deal with this now Nick, I need you to make up a story like usual to wade them off. No one and I mean _no one_ can know I’m with Tristan or else I’ll be fucked,” I say, imagining headlines that went along the lines of “Harry Styles is GAY!”; “Harry Styles has finally admitted to be gay”; “Is Larry Stylinson real?”… I was hoping the last one would be true, even in my imagination. But there’s a limit to how far fantasies go.

“Well he posted a picture of you sleeping on Instagram-”.

I swear out loud. “Fuck! Management is going to kill me Nick. They’re going to chop off my balls and feed them to the ducks.”

“Calm yo itty titty bitty titties, I told him to take it down,” he chuckles, not choking once on the ‘titties’ part. “But of course, your fandom is crazy fast, there’re already photos and guess what? Histan is your ship name.”

“Histan?” I question. _Sounds shitty to be honest,_ my inner god snorts. “It sucks!”

“Gryles sounds better I agree. But what about you and your recording?”

“Cover for me faggot!”

“Fine Princess, I’ll tell Louis some bullshit story,” Nick says and I can hear him smiling through the phone for calling me ‘Princess’. But right now, I didn’t care, Tristan was my main goal.

“What happened last night Nick?”

“You were an animal Harry,” Nick rumbles. “I’ve never seen you so upfront about being gay with anyone at all except for last night. But if you’re asking because you had a blackout then I gave you some green pills last night to take because you wouldn’t bloody talk to Tristan so I helped and look what happened-”

“I can’t remember having sex with my crush dumbass,” I snort. “If I have sex with my mancrush I kind of wanna remember it!”

“Go have sex now, you have 10 hours before your balls will be chopped off and fed to ducks,” he advises. “Make it worth every second.”

 

*

*

“Tristan is fucking amazing!” I shout as I make myself at home at King’s house.

Tristan and I spent the entire morning making breakfast of eggs, cupcakes, pancakes, bacon and waffles in our birthday suits. We would have done it faster if it wasn’t for his pathetic skills at baking like forgetting to put the baking powder… who forgets to put baking powder? Sigh. Anyway, after that we spent the afternoon cuddling, spooning, whispering sweet nothings into his ear hoping they would work on him and make him _mine_ and of course sex! Which was a blast, he’s so good with that thing he does with his tongue. But every time I tried every trick under the Harry Styles’ guide book of _How To Get The One You Want_ , he would be hooked and the next, he would pretend like the intense glorious passion never happened between us a few minutes ago. Weird.

_You had sex on the counter though_ , my inner god reels.

King turns his head from GTA V and asks, “Who’s Tristan?”

“Who else but the hot guy from the club,” Nick sways in with two drinks in his hand.

“Oh Miss Diva, right?” asks King, going back to his game. I jump near him on the leather couch, taking away his game control and forcing him to hear me. “No, give me back it.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” I say, chuckling. I could see King tense under my gaze, his mouth slightly opening, his fingers decreasing in temperature, his shallow breath. Sometimes when I feel these changes, I always assume I’m a vampire. Like the phantomagorgeous Stefan Salvatore.

“Fuck you Harry!” King swears, standing up and grabbing a shot from Nick. “You need to stop doing that.”

“But it’s fun,” I giggle.

“Keep doing that and you will make him play for the pink team,” Nick says, raising in glass in a “cheers” signal.

“Are you hooking up again with Tristan or?” King asks me. To be honest, I don’t think so. It was a one-time thing, just like me and Nick occasionally. Don’t worry, I’m not sad that it’s over, I’m smiling that it happened. Why does that sound familiar?

I shake my head. “No.”

“I don’t get it though. You have someone who likes you back, someone who you know is gay, someone who is willing to love you back but you still refuse and go back to Louis.”

“It’s not that simple King,” I look at him, pulling out a Dunhill cigarette from its packet. “Sadly, Tristan isn’t the relationship type of guy and as far as Louis is concerned, he’s the air that I breathe... I can’t get him out of my lungs.”

“At least you fucked him hard,” King shrugs.

“Actually, he fucked me but whatever,” I smile at the memory of today morning, blood rushing to my cheeks.

“Aww, our little Princess is whipped as hell,” Nick coos, drowning down his seventh shot. He walks towards us, tripping over air on the way, and lays his entire body on me.

“What’s up with you gays being all clingy?” he asks, pouting his lips slightly. I dip my burning cigarette into his mouth and watch his cheeks form two hollows in between them. I remove my lung cancer stick and he exhales slowly, catching some of the smoke with my mouth.

“Gross guys,” King says watching us.

“It’s not all of gay people who are clingy, some contain ourselves, and others” – I point at Nick –“are gayer than the word itself.”

“Hey,” Nick slurs. “I can hear you.”

“What drugs is he on?” I ask.

“Ginger,” King replies. “Holy crap!”

“What?” I ask.

I turn to see King, his mouth agape, his eyes popping out of his orbits like he’s seen Kim Kardashian’s latest sex tape. “You’ve got to see this!”

“The Kardashians aren’t that hot,” I smile. “I would know because I dated one of them.”

“Oh yes, Kendall Jenner,” Nick squeals beneath me. “Lovely girl.”

I push Nick off me, his body falling down on the carpet. I walk over to King and see what the fuss is all about. I stop dead on my tracks when I see what he’s looking at. It’s a picture of me, half naked on Tristan’s Instagram with the caption _Sleeping Beauty_.

“Nick I thought you took the photo down,” I yell.

“I lied.”

“You idiot! Do you know what Modest! will do to me?”

“Look at it as something good,” King calms me down, probably sensing my nervousness mixed with anger. I take a puff of smoke and think. Modest! is going to be calling me, HJPR is going to be calling, the lads will be calling, _everyone_ would be calling… calling to ask what I was doing with Tristan. The British socialite diva who came out last year at the GBJ Awards.

“How is a gay person taking a photo of me sleeping naked going to be good? Explain to me King!”

“Harry,” King says, holding my face with both of his hands. I could see uncomfortablness flash in his eyes when he realized how close he was to my face. “You’re always saying that you want to be different, that you want to be a rebel, that you want to change your life-“

“That you wish you could come out,” Nick adds from the floor.

“But if you keep controlling every aspect of your life that goes into the media, you’ll go crazy. You’ll create a prison of yourself.”

“What are you saying?” I ask him, tentatively not sure where he’s heading with this. Is he saying that I should come out? That’s out of the question. There’s no in hell that I would come out, not now, not tomorrow, not ever!

“What I’m saying is let this picture be.”

“But Modest! are-“

“Screw Modest! They don’t control your life as much as you think. Ed said that they have secrets, secrets that could destroy their own company. As long as you have their secret, you control them too.”

“So I let this picture remain?” I ask. “People will make assumptions that I’m gay and I slept with him. It’s pretty obvious that I slept with him… Look at my face, I have sex hair…”

“Correction. You are gay and you did sleep with him.”

King and I both silence Nick. “Shut up!”

“What are you always saying?” King asks, turning his attention to me.

“Everybody loves a rebel,” I say from memory, like some mantra I was meditating upon. _You don’t just meditate upon it_ , my inner god corrects, _you breath, eat, live, dance, sing and fuck it_. It was true, ever since Justin’s birthday party, I’ve become less of the Harry Styles the world sees: the kind, sweet, non-womanizer or whatever the hell the fandom saw me as. I’ve started doing what I want, mixing with poisonous and dangerous crowds, getting into situations I would previously never have found myself in… basically, anything my heart screams “rebel” and I’m in so deep you would think Adele sang _Rolling in the deep_ for me. Basically, I was game if the world was game.

“Exactly,” he smiles. “You skipped a whole day of recordings, several calls from _them_ , calls from your band members and now a scandalous photo of you doing rounds on who knows where… I would say this is the beginning of the perfect villain.”

Game on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i'm on a roll with updating chapter after chapter.... i think im slowing getting addicted to ao3 [;


	5. Platform 2¾

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry goes to see his therapist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Platform" chapters shall not be entirely PART of the story but shall be a filler chapter and is meant to be a breather from the actual story. However, they do help understand the outline of the chapter. 
> 
> Cheers!

_++_

_She said, “Hey, It’s alright, does it make you feel alive?” ~ **One Direction**_

_++_

 

Dr Hitsugaya clips her Bic ,free pen on her green pad and asks his third patient of the day. “What makes you feel alive?”

The curly haired, green-eyed boy shifts in his seat, his eyes darting to the window, wondering what makes him alive. Sure drugs, booze and the likes yes but going further, it’s singing in front of a crowd, having sex with random gay British socialites, … but that’s not it. It’s a certain brown, lesbian-haired boy that gives him the high no drug in the world can compare.

Yes, _he_ makes him feel alive.

After Harry came to terms with his sexuality, he was scared to death about learning this… this _block_ in his life that he had no idea how to control, let alone grasp its meaning. Do you know what it’s like being gay in a world where opposite sexes are the “one and only”? In a universe where homosexuality is frowned upon? A galaxy where homosexuals are killed for being themselves?

Do you know what it’s like?

No you do not because you’re not like Harry. You are **not** him. Harry lives in this world, a different world than yours and mine. He truly knows the definition of ‘being different’.

But he had to put it under control as his mother [“the killer”, Harry mutters under his breath] always said that pink boys [gays, that is] will never enter the Kingdom of Heaven. And who does not want to enter the Kingdom of Heaven? And that is why therapy started dear friends; Harry wanted to fix his sexuality. He wanted to get rid of his unacceptable sexual orientation in society, no matter what the cost, he would rid of his gay to feel normalcy again.

Whatever _that_ felt like.

“Drugs,” he finally responds but they both know it’s a lie. It’s not drugs, it’s _him_.

“That’s all?”

“You know my lifestyle, why are you asking?”

“I don’t read tabloids. Tell me Harry,” insists the doctor.

Harry groans, thinking about what makes him alive, what makes him _tick_. He knows that she is waiting for him to say, “Louis makes me alive” but he is not going to say that. He thinks of other things. “Looking for new ways to torture myself. “

“Ah,” Dr Histugaya’s interest perks as so do her nipples. Don’t judge her, Harry is a very attractive, young lad.

“Yesterday I tried burning my fingers over the cooker. I got bored after a while so I smoked some kush and avoided Louis the whole night.”

“Why are you avoiding Louis?”

“Because he reminds me of my sinful nature,” Harry reminds her.

“Are you still uncomfortable with your sexuality?”

“Do you know what it’s like being a closeted gay?”

“Tell me what it’s like.”

“It’s a living nightmare.” Harry breathes fire, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s like knowing how to swim but suddenly when you’re in the water, your body forgets it’s swimming capabilities and you drown; you keep sinking further into the ocean, the weight of the water crashing down you, pushing further into the bottomless pit. Or it’s like going for X Factor auditions and singing your heart out but people boo at you and throw tomatoes at you because you were pathetic yet you know you’re good.”

Dr Hitsugaya mimics Simon Cowell, the infamous X Factor judge. “It’s a no from me,”

Harry chuckles and continues. “It’s like being locked in a hot furnace and the fire burns every inch of your skin until it can burn no more. You think it’s stopped burning you but it continues starts burning your bones that you even hear the crunchy noise of your bones disintegrating.”

“That’s very vivid.”

“That’s because this secret eats you up like cancer and keeps you up all night. It eats and feeds on your malcontent, it feeds on the fact that you can’t come out of the closet; the fact that you’re a hanger in a closet. Do you know what it’s like living and knowing that the man who’s meant to protect you hates you?”

Dr Hitsugaya takes a guess, “God?”

“Yes. Do you know what it’s like when God himself hates you? Do you? You read everywhere that He hates homosexuals and this is emphasized by the society along with Holy Books which makes it all the more difficult to come out or even admit it to your best friend let alone your family.”

“What is your relationship with God?”

Fatly he says, “Over.”

“What about with your best friend? Do you still feel the fire burning your bones?”

“Yes. Every time I spend time with Louis or if I’m even close to him I want to skin myself so as to remove the gay in me that-”

“But you can’t so you take the drugs?”

“Exactly. They’ll fix this terrible mess I’m in,” Harry smiles reassuringly. He was glad that he read somewhere being gay was a phase and every hormonal (and horny) teenage male goes through the gay phase but why did it feel like this was permanent?

“These drugs won’t fix you Harry,” Dr Histugaya tells him, her brows furrowed together.

“They will.”

“You keep talking about Louis but there’s a lot of speculation about you and Tristan Soten,” she says.

“I thought you didn’t read tabloids,” Harry smirks at his private, expensive therapist, the thoughts of a naked Tristan hovering his body during sex.

“I did ever since I realized the truth in them. They really portray the real you.”

_Just what you wanted_ , Harry’s inner god high fives him in delight. “Finally, right?”

“Is this what you want?”

“Yes.”

“Why? What are you trying to achieve?”

“I want to be a rebel,” he confesses. “Everybody thinks I’m this sweet, cheeky singer who wouldn’t hurt a fly. But that’s not me.”

“You’re just acting out because of your sexuality.”

He shrugs. “Two birds, one stone.”

Turning on her iPad, the doctor flips her forefinger on the illuminated screen and stops. “Here it says, you’re the womanizer of the century” – she looks up at Harry who shrugs – “and another says you had sex with three different girls at Justin Bieber’s birthday party” – Harry smirks and mutters something like “great couple of girls” – “oh, this is a good one. Which one is the best romance: Gryles or Stylinson?”

“None,” Harry says, tight lipped.

“Does this one upset you the most?” she asks calmly. He nods and she continues. “Why? It’s just as painful as the rest of the articles.”

“I wish it was real,” Harry responds in trance. “I wish I could hold his hand down the street like he does with his bitchy girlfriend.”

“You want to hold his hand in public like Eleanor Calder does?”

“I want to be the one that he holds at night before going to sleep. I want to be the one he comes crying to when he isn’t able to hit the high note in _Over Again_ , I want to be the reason he has sweet dreams not nightmares. I want to be the one he calls when something goes wrong – like he was too drunk at a bar and couldn’t drive home or something. The one who attends his football matches-“

Quizzically, Dr Hitsugaya asks, “It says here you do, don’t you?

Harry shakes his head, “Keep up with the times Doctor, that’s an old article. And besides, it’s Eleanor nowadays not me. I’m not even invited so it would be intrusive if I just showed up.”

“You want to be Eleanor?”

“Yes… no… yes, but not Eleanor Eleanor just what she is to him,” Harry nods. “Sometimes I wish I was a girl named Harrieta so I would date Louis.”

“I think Louis loves you as you are Harry.”

“Not as much as I love him.”

“How do you know it’s love?”

“I toss and turn in my bed when I crave his touch at night. I go crazy when he’s inches away from me and knowing that I can’t touch him or put my arm around his shoulder lovingly. I want to rip off my hair when his exposed arm is touching mine, by accident of course or when he randomly ruffles my hair when we’re recording our new album… I swear I never wash my hair for days after that” – Harry smiles – “until Lou,” – Dr Hitsugaya looks at Harry confused – “the hairstylist, forcefully washes my hair.”

Dr Histugaya says nothing when Harry stops talking but continues smiling at him. It’s at this moment when the worries of the world are off his shoulder and all he can think about is Louis Tomlinson. Not the circumstances about loving him but just the boy himself. His eyes twinkle and, as is the usual with Harry’s therapy sessions, he rambles anything and everything about Louis that you would be forgiven to think they _were_ actually dating.

“Have you ever noticed the dimples at the bottom of his spine?” Harry asks, smiling like a four-year old who was just bought a lollipop.

“No,” she shakes her head, feeling his happiness hanging in the room like cataracts.

“You can see them whenever he tries to reach for a bowl at the top of the cupboard and his shirt rises” – Harry screams internally – “Or when it’s his turn to sing he touches his stomach like his” –Harry touches his tummy with his left hand – “ and he sings it perfectly like the angels of Music Heaven came down just for that purpose. People think Zayn sings the highest notes but Louis does, he really does but as usual Modest! says he shouldn’t sing as much as me and Liam.”

Harry stops to catch his breath and continues, “Or when he plays football… he gets so excited for a match coming up in three months. He practices and practices every day in the park, insisting I should take a video so that he can spot his mistakes. I tell him there’re no mistakes with-“

“Except you’re talking about him as a person, aren’t you?”

“Yes but he never notices,” Harry looks down at his feet. “He never does.”

“Sometimes when we do these little actions to those we love they never notice and it frustrates us because we’re screaming, “I love you, notice me” but all they ever hear is, “I’m a good friend”. Why don’t you tell Louis you love him, casually?” she suggests

“I did, last week when he didn’t go to see Eleanor in Manchester. He came and snuggled with me, oh doctor, you should have been there, my heart felt like it would fly out of my chest,” Harry recalls. “I casually said ‘I love you Lou’ and he looked up me, smiling ‘I love you too Harry’ and kissed me on my forehead. I woke up the next day hoping he would be there but he had travelled down South to see his family.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Whenever he’s away, he never fades away.”

“I’m betting on all your money you smoked some that morning?”

“All day,” Harry corrects her. “I think this is what studies would call an onset of a drug addiction.”

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“Of what?”

“Drug addiction?”

“Did you know love is also an addiction just like cocaine?” Harry asks. Dr Hitsugaya shakes her head. “When you’re in love your body releases a chemical called Dopamine which has the same addictive effects like cocaine. So you see doctor, it doesn’t matter what I smoke or drink… It’ll never compare to the high I feel like when Louis holds my hand or when I can still smell him on my clothes.”

Dr Hitsugaya turns off her iPad and folds her notebook, placing the Malboro pen in the spiral and placing them on the coffee table to her left. She then leans forward, her cleavage in full view. _Does she know you’re gay?_ Harry’s inner god asks. She clasps her hands together pointing at Harry as if in deep thought, Harry staring at her intently.

“Are you happy?”

“Yes. That’s a silly question. I have a mind-blowing career, I have a billion fans worldwide-”

“Seriously.”

“No.”

“What is happiness to you?”

“Louis Tomlinson.”

“Not what is the source of your happiness but _what_ is happiness.”

“Oh,” he mouths. “Happiness for me is feeling like a room without a roof. But I feel like my room not only has a roof but it’s filled with darkness. Is Louis my darkness?”

“No.”

“Is Louis my roof?”

“No.”

“Then what is the roof to my happiness?”

“The roof is your sexuality Harry. As long as you’re in the closet, you’ll never be happy.”

“Guess who’s going to live in a dark room for the rest of his life?” Harry asks rhetorically through a mock-smile. Of course it was fake, the doctor saw right through it but if it was somebody else, they would not have seen it. There were no crinkles by his eyes which only meant the immense sorrow that swept through him at the thought he would never be with Louis, sailing the world without love.

“Harry,” she begins. “Your main issue here is that you are battling with the prospects of coming out, the fear of rejection from those around you that you turn to drugs and these harmful behaviors like burning your skin so suppress the hurt you’re feeling.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“For now, take these drugs. They will help deal with the hurt that Louis is giving you. It’s actually the same sort of pain, no difference but it may be better to channel this pain somewhere else other than towards yourself.”

“I think you’re the one who needs therapy,” Harry suggests, a tone of seriousness in his voice.

“I know right now my profession is being questioned,” she admits. _You think?_ Harry’s inner god questions. “But these drugs Harry, they make you feel alive. I have seen people become apathetic, depressed, numb, suicidal because of love but you’re the first who is only a drug addict and perhaps bordering alcoholic. Actually I think you are alcoholic already. I want you to keep taking them because they make you feel alive. These drugs will you make you feel something.”

“So these drugs will cure my gayness?” Harry asks, his heart hopeful that they are. Mentally he’s on his knees praying that the Doctor will say yes.

“Yes.”

“Are you lying?”

“Partially lying. It’s a white lie.”

“So there’s some truth to it?”

“Yes.”

“So will self-harming I hear,” Harry points out.

She tilts her head to one side. “Self-harming, what?”

“Self-harming will make me feel something other than being numb or pain.”

“True but self-harming is very dangerous,” she warns.

“So is cocaine and the other drugs I use.”

Frustratingly, she curses at Harry for being stubborn. “Shut up and listen!”

Unmoved, he continues being stubborn, “Yes ma’am.”

“Take the god damn drugs.”

“You don’t even know why I take these drugs, do you doctor?”

“Because you’re avoiding feeling hurt by Louis,” the doctor responds automatically without looking up from her iPad. Harry shakes his head, half smiling and heads for the door. He turns the knob but instead of going out he pauses and looks at his doctor. “Earlier you asked me what I was afraid of.”

“Yes,” she hums, typing on her computing device.

“What I’m afraid of has come to pass.”


	6. [Stranger Danger]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry takes to social media after drinking a little too much.

_++_

_Without the mask, where will you hide? **– Evanescence**_

_++_

Click.

Click.

Open.

Click.

Type.

[www.tumblr.com](http://www.tumblr.com)

Username: mindofstyles

Password: **************

Tipping back half the _Jack Daniels_ bottle, I say out loud. “C’mon tumblr, show me what you’ve got.”

Louis and I set up a tumblr account after fans began searching for other social media sites we had apart from Twitter. They found my MySpace which was embarrassing because I had childhood pictures and I only 9 friends. **Nine!** Anyway, we opened an account which would be very hard for fans to find which as it was a mixture of our names together: harry tomlinson x louis styles = htxls. Simple yet effective. But I changed the name since I basically own the tumblr account now and post whatever comes to my mind that shows the real, naked truth about me.

Typically, Louis soon forgot about our tumblr account when Elewhore came into the picture, along with his Instagram and Youtube account . Ha!

Dial.

_“Hello?”_

Greeting back I answer, “Hi Louis.”

“ _Harry what’s up?”_

“Nothing…”. Awkward silence. Shit, I curse inside. I randomly call Louis without plot, without planning!! Dammit Harry, get your shit together.

_“Is everything okay Haz?”_

“Yeah, why would nothing be okay?” I ask, my brain racking in my head, my fingers gripping my iPhone case.

_“Well, it’s just that I’m on a date with Eleanor and you’ve never called except today so I thought it was an emergency.”_

_Great, he thinks you’re a weirdo now_ , my inner god scoffs.

“I was remembering our tumblr account and remembered that you forgot about your Youtube account as well,” I lamely say, slapping myself.

_“We’ve become busy and all, I bet you don’t even go on our tumblr anymore.”_

I shake my head, forcing the cold feeling that one gets when you are the last to be picked for teams during P.E from over taking my mind. I would not let it in. “Of course I don’t remember, we created it like 2 years ago right?”

_“I know! We had such a lame name didn’t we?_ –pause – _what was it again?”_

I don’t remember, I say in my head. _It’s easier to lie Harry_ , my inner god soothes me. I squeeze shut my eyes when I hear Eleanor laughing in the background, squeezing them further from blocking the tears I can sense coming. I grab the bottle of pink and orange pills near my laptop and chug them down with a tote of vodka. I can hear Dr Hitsugaya’s words echoing in my mind _don’t be numb, whatever you do don’t be numb_. Good, I don’t feel like crying anymore.

_“Harry, are you there?”_

“Uh, yeah. I don’t remember either but I think it was Larry Stylinson,” I say, hinting at the subject of the infamous ship of the fandom.

_“That disgusting ship from the delusional, vile fans? I really hope it wasn’t.”_

Did he just snort and laugh at that? Snaugh, maybe? And was that Elewhore agreeing in the back?? What the fuck is she doing there?

_They’re on a date dipshit_ , my inner god rolls his eyes.

“Yeah delusional,” I lie. “It’s a good name though.”

_“Stylinson does sound nice but they’re vile for making it seem like we’re dating. Do you know how unfair it is for Eleanor to hear her boyfriend is dating another man? Complete idiots they are.”_

I breath heavily, sending away the sadness seething through my veins. “They’re dumb, aren’t they?”

_“Like it’s disgusting that they think we’re dating. I mean, I’m not gay and neither are you.”_

“Do you regret ever being best friends?”

_“What?”_

I repeat myself, “Do you regret our bromance?”

_“Never! That’s the one thing I miss before everything started. Listen I have to go, Eleanor wants to go on the water slide so I’ll see you tonight?”_

“Yeah, see you Boobear,” I smile through the phone at mentioning his nickname. One time Louis and I took me to his parent’s house as we made a deal that we’d each go see each other’s family. SO during dinner, Jay, Louis’ mother, shouted “Boobear” and I thought it would be one of his four sisters that she was calling but it was actually Louis. I remember his eyes darting from me to Jay and back to me, knowing I would taunt him about his.

_“You’ll never forget that name, will you?”_

“Never Boobear.”

_“Someday I’ll know your nickname, Hazza. Cheerio.”_

“Bye,” I hang up.

“Looks like it’s just me and tumblr tonight,” I grudgingly mutter to the smoke around my face. I look around and notice that it’s really foggy in here and…

*light bulb moment*

This is a tumblr, picture perfect moment. I swipe out my iPhone and take a selfie, smoke all around me in a mystifying moment.

I quickly upload my smoky selfie and I already have 51 reblogs and 103 likes. That was pretty fast. I know it’s risky putting a selfie on tumblr as my tumblr account is a secret but what with ‘fake accounts’ mine is just another on that list.

Click.

Type.

[www.youtube.com](http://www.youtube.com)

Click.

Type.

_one direction video diaries_

Enter.

Click _Video Diaries FULL_

“Fuck adverts!” I curse when it says ‘Wait 5 sec for video’ on the clip. Like why did Youtube create _this_? If we wanted to see their stupid adverts we would type _adverts_ in the search bar but no, they decide we have to watch them. Fuckers.

I tip back the whiskey bottle as with my head and feel a drop on my tongue. I grudgingly stand up, wobbling a bit (did I drink that much?) ( _of course dipshit,_ my inner god seethes, _look at those empty bottles on your desk_ ). Walking to the kitchen, I open the cupboards and boom! A whole free bottle of Jager for me.

It didn’t matter if King was busy with his basketball training, Nick with his radio or Ed touring Australia with Taylor Swift, my ex-girlfriend. Yes, _the_ Taylor Swift. Nope, I’m completely peachy about it.

“More for me,” I shrug and gulp a chunk of the bittersweet drink running down my throat. I sit and light up two cigarettes because I’m awesome like that. Or because one doesn’t do much for me.

The video starts and 2 packets of cigarettes, another bottle of vodka and faint trails of cocaine on my desk later, I’ve watched _all_ the videos of One Direction and by all I mean **all** : video diaries, bootcamp videos (those are long, innit?), those stupid interviews we did in 2010, conspiracy theories between Larry and Elounor, fanfic trailers, our music videos, and those stupid behind the scenes videos (why do we even film that?) and not forgetting funny moments. Especially Louis moments. Those are the best.

His echoing laughter through the room when Niall accidentally farted, the cross-eye he does when he stands near a hot woman dressed like Rihanna, the crinkles by his eyes when I secretly touch him (I only noticed this when I read the comments from the _Larry Bible_ video).

My fingers twitch towards my iPhone, craving to hear Louis’ real voice not from some video but I remember he is on a date with that whore of Manchester. She really is a whore I mean have you seen her photos before she dated my best friend? Drinking all the time? Smoking all the time? Partying and dirty dancing?

_Hypocrite!_ my inner god sneers, _you’re drinking and smoking right now. And remember dancing on the bar for Tristan that night?_

Shut up, I command my inner god. I am not a hypocrite! I am not.

Click.

Type.

[www.twitter.com](http://www.twitter.com)

Why am I being so social all of a sudden? _It’s because all your friends ditched you, your band members don’t even talk to you anymore, there’s no party tonight and the love of your life still doesn’t love you_ , my inner god summarizes my life.

Cursing I say to him, “Fucker.”

_You can’t catch me,_ my inner god sticks out his tongue.

Inhaling my ninth cigarette of the night I grin, “You’re so gay.”

_So are you but not Louis_ , my inner god says rolling his eyes.

“Fuck off,” I shut the voice in my head. I turn my attention to the screen in front of me, to the thousands of tweets talking about duck faces aren’t cool, pictures of Asia, saving the poor, pictures of Louis and Eleanor on their date from this afternoon… wait, what? How do I know this? I thought I blocked all Elounor accounts?

“Bye fucker,” I laugh evilly, as I hit the block button to @Eleanor_My_Saviour. I keep scrolling and see a tweet by Raghdad. I click on her profile and boom, it’s @StylesMyFace.

“What does that even mean?” I question at her twitter handle. I stalk her twitter page and already figured out that she’s a Larry shipper, she’s from the Middle East, has a weird purple float-y cartoon as her avi, she likes candy (how old is she?) and immediately my head rings the alarm: pedophile Harry, pedophile!

I shrug and decide to follow her and immediately send her a DM.

 

**@StylesMyFace:** OMGSFAIS IT YUO SHARYRY AAHH

 

I groan inside and pray this isn’t one of those Directioners who can’t type properly just because I followed them. That’s one of the reasons I don’t go on follow sprees because Directioners so god damn noisy when I follow them. I thought that’s the end of the road but no, they have to DM me every bloody hour of the day saying _I love you_ and _Please follow yadda yadda yadda_ like give me a break, I followed you not you alone and your damn groupies!

**@Harry_Styles:** What’s your name? .xx

_Such a perv Harry_ , my inner god shakes his head. _She’s like 14._

 

**@StylesMyFace:** RHGADH

 

**@StylesMyFace:** Raghdad

 

**@Harry_Styles:** I was wondering if that was a name .xx

 

**@StylesMyFace:** ThaNK YOU SOO MUCH FOR FOLLOWING ME YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW I FEEL RIGHT NOW IM SO EXISTED I CN;T BRAETH!!!!!111!!11!!$2!!!

_Looks like she’s those Directioners who can’t type properly_ , my inner god says.

She seems different, I say.

 

**@Harry_Styles:** DON’T LOSE YOUR BREATH OVER ME

 

**@StylesMyFace:** But why me? I’m not a model, I’m not pretty…

 

**@Harry_Styles:** What do you mean? I know you’re beautiful babe. You’re not hyperventilating which is a first.

 

**@StylesMyFace:** Hahaha :) my mother came rushing into the room thinking I was being kidnapped but I told her you followed me. You don’t understand, your following list is only verified accounts, fake fans, models, and a dog account!

 

**@Harry_Styles:** Hey, that’s a wicked dog account. And sorry, I didn’t realize that. I follow other people too!

 

**@StylesMyFace:** You don’t follow any youtubers!

 

**@Harry_Styles** : I follow a blond, flambouyant one… I don’t know his name but he usually tweets me all the time, tagging Louis’ twitter handle occasionally.

 

**@StylesMyFace:** Oh that’s Tyler Oakley…

 

**@Harry_Styles:** I’m sensing hostility ;)

 

**@StylesMyFace:** Be careful about him. He’s using you guys to gain subscribers on his youtube account.

 

Well this isn’t news to me. People use me for my fame to get publicity, promotions and whatnot which is one of the reasons Caroline Flack and I dated. Then she found out I was gay after snooping around, reading articles and articles about me, Louis and Larry Stylinson in general. One thing led to another, she figured it all out. She figured out my secret.

Not to worry, I have something against her so she’ll never go to the paparazzi with my secret so I’m pretty safe. For now at least.

 

**@Harry_Styles:** That’s not new to me. Who do you recommend I follow then?

 

**@StylesMyFace:** Troye Sivan firstly then Superwoman, Kingsley, iWanDatCake, Conor Franta…

 

**@Harry_Styles:** iWanDatCake? That’s a weird name haha

 

**@StylesMyFace:** He’s reeeeally funny and most of the time sarcastic. He’s like the younger version of Kingsley who’s truly, madly and deeply in love with Gaga!!

 

**@Harry_Styles:** Cool, I’ll subscribe to him. At least I know Troye…. he’s pretty cool.

 

**@StylesMyFace:** How do you know him? :O You’ve met him before???

_Because you’re fucking gay, that’s how you know him_ , my inner god roars.

“Why so angry bud?” I ask him then realizing it’s like talking to myself. I smoke one and type.

 

**@Harry_Styles:** He came out of the closet 3 weeks ago and it was a big deal on Twitter so I checked it out and it was him… Later saw he was a fan :)

_The lies you tell people_ , my inner god shakes his head.

 

**@StylesMyFace:** He’s hot isn’t he?

 

**@Harry_Styles** : Yeah he is.

 

**@StylesMyFace:** He has a man crush on you by the way!!!

 

**@Harry_Styles** : The video is funny

 

**@StylesMyFace:** IS LARRY STYLINSON REAL??

 

**@StylesMyFace:** I’m sorry you don’t have to answer it’s just that the whole fandom is curious and we don’t know for sure…

 

**@Harry_Styles:** Yes

My index fingers hover over the enter button, not pressing anything. Larry Stylinson technically (or is that sexually?) isn’t real, well one of the Stylinson’s aren’t. I bite my lip nervously at the question. I so badly wanted for Larry to be real, for us to be able to tell the world we’re together and we’re happy. And that being gay in today’s society is not bad. That one shouldn’t be ashamed of who they are… and all that bullshit!

People don’t realize it’s so fucking hard to come out. It’s not like walking out of an ice-cream shop with a cone of vanilla and chocolate. No it’s like coming out of an ice-cream shop without the ice-cream and meeting serial killers waiting outside the shop. Ready to kill you. Society is ready to kill you.

 

**@Harry_Styles:** No but I am.

“But you take the risk of being killed,” I smirk.

_What?_ my inner god screams, slapping me across the face. _What the fuck Harry? She’s going to tell_.

Maybe it’s the cocaine in my body or bottles of vodka and beer running in my blood but truth is I felt like coming out. I didn’t want to be a hanger in a closet anymore. I’m so sick of being gay and not being able to share this wonderful… wonderful part of me with the world.

People are always saying, shine all the stars in your body, even those that flicker like a candle in the wind or those that will not cast out darkness or perhaps those that will blind others of the glorious light it holds.

 

**@StylesMyFace:** I knEW IT I KNEW IT OMGASF I KNWE IT WAS TRUHE! WE WEERE RIHGT, LEOURN SHIPPERS ARE DELUSIONAL!!!

 

**@Harry_Styles:** Leourn????

 

**@StylesMyFace:** Elounor whoops

 

**@Harry_Styles:** I’m gay, Louis isn’t :(

 

**@StylesMyFace:** Nooooooooooo! This can’t be. You and Louis ARE soul mates. You’re meant to be together not apart why isn’t he gAY??

 

**@Harry_Styles:** I don’t know but what I do know is that I’m drunk and I don’t want to spill anymore of my secrets.

 

**@Harry_Styles:** Goodnight.

 

**@StylesMyFace:** GooodnIGHT HARRY SWEET DREAMS, LOUIS LOVES YOU AND SO DOES ALLAH

 

**@Harry_Styles:** Haha goodnight Raghdad

 

**@StylesMyFace:** And your secret is safe with me. But why come out to me? I mean, we don’t know each other…

 

**@Harry_Styles:** That means a lot! I can’t have anyone knowing I’m gay. And it’s easier to come out to a stranger than a friend or someone I know.

 

**@StylesMyFace:** That’s because a stranger won’t judge you. I’m guessing Louis doesn’t know…

 

**@Harry_Styles:** Exactly! And no he doesn’t :( and neither do the lads. Only a few people.

 

**@StylesMyFace:** You should tell Liam, Niall, Zayn and Louis. They will accept you just like the fandom too. We don’t care if you’re gay or not because quite frankly your skinny jeans give it away but we still love you no matter who you love

 

**@Harry_Styles:** thanks Raghdad but I really gotta go sleep.

 

I didn’t wait for a reply from her or else more of my secrets would start slipping through my fingers. My heart is still beating from coming out to a fan, a complete stranger. Or maybe it’s all the cocaine I’ve been snorting. Either way, I need to calm my nerves. I wobble to our bathroom and open the cabinet, looking for… looking for…

“Found you,” I say holding bottles of Celexa, Imipramine and Xanax. All these are technically prescription drugs but a little overdose one feels a high that normal drugs don’t give you…especially when taken together.

I sit back in front of my laptop, the cahoots drugs taking immediate effect. I let them take over and type my secrets onto the big, bad world of the internet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fast updates YAAAY! and the weekend seems it's here to......not STAY ]=


	7. [We're The Misfits]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis tags along with Harry's crazy friends....

“Harry Edward Styles!” Nick barges into the room, his British voice quite high and uh-oh, he’s really angry. “Wake up! I know you’re bloody awake.”

I play it cool. “No I’m not.” Obviously it didn’t work because he flips off the duvet and throws it across the wall, letting it slide slowly against the orange wall.

“Harry Fucking Styles explain yourself NOW!” he flares, his knuckles turning white about to punch the wall above me. Seconds later, a whole forms above my head in the wall, his eyebrows crunched together, his hair erect and his eyes wide with fury and violence. I sit up against my will and take a look at him. He’s oddly not dressed down because he’s in sweatpants and is that my blue beanie?

“Explain what?” I ask, hearing footsteps outside my door. _Shit, it’s Louis_ , my inner god panics. Why is everyone around me panicking and being violent? And what’s with my massive migraine? I need a fag right now, please!

“You came out on Twitter you dipshit!” Nick says loudly.

Before I can react, Louis asks in shock, “What?”

“Louis, get the fuck out of this room,” Nick curses at him, throwing the pillow I was sleeping on at him. He ducks it and throws the middle finger at cockhead himself, throwing the same pillow towards him for it to…

“Ow!” I hiss in pain as the pillow hits my face. My reflexes are so bad, I sigh.

“Is this true?” Louis asks me. “Did you come out yesterday?”

I don’t know, did I come out yesterday? I don’t remember anything from yesterday apart from my therapy session with Dr Hitsugaya in the morning and stopping for some donuts at the A96 coffee shop at 3PM. And why am I oddly calm at the announcement of my coming out? I should be panicking, ventilating, getting an attack… but I’m unusually calm.

What did I take last night?

“What do you mean I came out?” I ask and it’s only then it hits me, coming out implies that someone is gay…I am gay but Louis doesn’t know this! He doesn’t know I’m gay therefore he shouldn’t be in this room at this moment. I scream. Internally. But here he is, asking questions with the chance of knowing that I may or may not be gay. No, Louis can’t know my secret. He can’t know I’m gay after he and Zayn usually say some homophobic comments about gay people including Nick. NO!

Nick looked at Louis hesitantly and then back at me, “Do you want him here?”

“Yes,” Louis said confidently but I shake my head. “Why not?”

“It’s private,” I say avoiding his gaze.

“Did you or did you not come out yesterday?” he asks, his arms folded across his chest. He has this worried look on his face that hints that if I ever came out, he would sigh, shake his head, mumble a few words and just like that walk out of my life. Or go back to Eleanor which is the same bloody thing.

“No,” I say, with a bit of confidence, which is a key ingredient to a pathological liar.

“Fine,” he mumbles and walks out of the room and he turns around. “You would tell me if you were gay, right Harry?” Those burning blue eyes pierce into mine, my heart feeling like it could burst out at any minute. Even in the morning he looks like one of god’s angels. “Harry?”

“Uh, yeah of course I would,” I smile at him. _Liar liar, pants on fire_ , my inner god sings. He walks out and I’m left with a furry Grimmy on my case. He quickly climbs onto me, pinning my arms above my head on the bed. Winking I tell him, “This looks very familiar.”

“You came out on Twitter saying you love balls and dicks and that Larry Stylinson was real,” he says.

“What?” I ask, confused as hell.

“Your stupid management and PR has been calling me all morning asking that I take down the tweet which they did by hacking into my account!” he growls, his fingers digging into my wrist. “That’s a breach of privacy Harry, it really is! And that’s not all, they sent people to my office, with a warrant from the police to arrest me, checking and searching for heaven-knows-what in my office.”

“I’m sure it was nothing,” I try to calm him down.

“Oh nothing? They questioned me what I know about Larry Stylinson and I kept telling them it’s nothing. Nothing exists. You know what the funny thing is?”

Ah shit, it’s those rhetorical questions that always end up with you shitting yourself because the answer is always something you’re hoping won’t hurt you.

“They did find something about Larry Stylinson,” he answers himself. My mind races to what I’ve been telling Nick about Louis and I for the last 1 year and 6 months. All I’ve been telling him is that Larry isn’t real. Elounor is. I’m gay. Louis isn’t. I wish he was and he’s a tad homophobic.

“What did they find?” I ask, my heart racing in my heart, my palms sweaty along with my wrists. He hesitates to tell me, biting his bottom lip and his green contact eyes darting around me apart from my face.

“Tell me you fucker, what is it? What does Modest know?” I squirm under him, trying to get away from him but he pins me down further, his chest inches from mine.

“I’m really sorry Harry, I tried my best,” he says, and I can tell he’s trying hard not to cry. What does Modest! know that is bringing Nick so close to crying. “I know you trust me so much with everything but I really don’t -“

“Nick you better tell me now or I will kick you in the balls,” I say, getting fed up he’s not spilling the beans. _Beans for breakfast sound good yo_ , my inner god whines. _I’m hungry!_

“I don’t know what to say,” he says and I shut him up by rolling him over and pinning his arms to the bed with mine for a change. I lean down close to his face and kiss his apple chin.

“Tell me Nick, what do they know!” I feel him squirming underneath me but I prevent him from moving, knowing he’ll get a boner soon. My inner god winks at me, as I leave wet kisses on his collarbone.

“Don’t,” Nick warns me. Ignoring him, I bite on the flesh above his collarbone, softly and sweetly, enough for him to groan. “Let me go Harry.”

“Tell me,” I say deeply knowing my morning voice turns him on. “Tell me or I won’t stop.”

“Fuck off,” he rumbles, his eyes full of lust.

I smile at him like a little child, “You don’t mean that.” I grind on his groin, his head tilts back, his mouth forming an ‘O’ shape and out comes the secret.

“They know you’re gay.”

My body freezes against his, my mind racing with a thousand and ten thoughts, my heart beating too fast for my own sake. “What do you mean?”

“They found the note you wrote to me saying you were going to meet up with Tristan and they kept asking who Tristan is and one thing led to another, they called him up to the office and at first he didn’t know who you were but later on he remembered.”

 _That snitch_ , my inner god hurls.

“Keep going,” I spit at him, furious at him for keeping that stupid note from last year and angry at Tristan for not keeping us a secret. He promised me he wouldn’t tell anyone.

With a few chocking sobs, he continues narrating what happened this morning. “He knew who you were and I think Jill or somebody called him to the office. By this time everybody was in my office…. my fucking boss was there Harry.”

If there’s anyone whose name shouldn’t be mentioned apart from Lord Voldemort, it was Nick’s boss, Mr Ranger. He was those bosses who fired you instantly if you came a minute late to work or if you say phoned friends while on air even if it was a prank or something. Nick’s previous worker, Jennifer found out the hard way when her boyfriend called her to propose to her on air… on her birthday! And just like that, she was gone. And he personally walked her to her car to make sure she didn’t return.

“Are you fired?” I ask, genuinely concerned.

“I don’t know, I really don’t know,” he cries. “This job is my everything and If I get fired I have nowhere else to go.”

“How did I log onto your account?” I ask suddenly. Last I remember I was on my account… or was I? Did I even go on Twitter last night?

“I’m changing my password that’s all I know.”

“Continue the story,” I tell him, not caring much about his job or anything else at this point. Don’t call me selfish, you hypocrite. You too would want to know how everyone in your management knows your secret and probably the media as well. Crap, if I tweeted from Nick’s account that Larry is real, then Twitter is going through World War Three right now, paparazzi’s driving to our apartment as fast as possible, journalists writing articles and stories about Larry being real and most importantly, that I am gay!! Not forgetting the fans. I smile knowing that Larry shippers are probably telling everybody ‘we told you so’ and converting many Elounor shippers.

 _Haha, life is sweet_ _innit_ , my inner god clinks his glass of wine.

Not quite, I shush him.

Nick continues. “Tristan comes into the office and starts talking about that night at Toto Blues club and how you left with him that night. Then King calls me and says everybody on Twitter is going crazy with your news, some people are saying that it was you who hacked my account as a way of coming out, others are saying that it was me-”

“What about Modest!?” I ask, my breath hitting his face. Color creeps his face on despite the tension going on between us. I smile at myself for what I’m doing to him. And his sex.

“Tristan confessed you had sex with him and with details of course. That stupid diva can talk.”

“Your jealousy is showing.”

“Anyway, they questioned me why and how I tweeted the tweet but I kept telling them I don’t know how, maybe I was hacked because yesterday I wasn’t on Twitter seeing as I had the radio project I was doing. And finally after 3 hours they all left and my boss told me to leave the office until further notice.”

And just like that, I wasn’t a hanger in the closet anymore. A secret that I’ve been holding onto for so long is snatched from me without my consent. No one asks me if I wanted it to be told, no one fucking asked me.

“I’m so sorry,” Nick cries, distracting me from my thoughts.

My mind instantenously goes into a panic mode: somebody knows my secret. People know my secret and it’s not just anyone but Jill and Mark know my secret. I collapse near Nick, my mouth dry but not my eyes. I furiously wipe them away but I can’t stop them and next thing I know I’m crying out my heart. _Like a sap idiot_ , my inner god ridicules me. I cry even harder, clutching my stomach because it fucking hurts. My whole life is crushing down before me and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. The whole world knows my secret, a secret that was meant to be my own and now I share with the world.

“No one was supposed to know,” I weep to no one in particular.

I feel Nick wiping the tears off my cheek and kissing the spot he’s just wiped but it’s useless. I can’t prevent my tears from coming back again, like a haunting reminder that people know I’m gay. Especially the people who can crush my career in a second.

“Do you know what it’s like to have something snatched from your life?” I ask.

“Pretty sure I do,” Nick says. Whether solemnly or not, I don’t catch it but he reassures me, “It’s going to be fine.”

“No it’s not. Modest! knows I’m gay,” I growl, pushing him away from me and standing on the other side of the room against the window pane. “Jill knows and you know what else? She’ll use this secret against me. She’ll control me to do whatever she wants with me like how she controlled Liam.”

“Liam?”

“When Liam and Danielle broke up, Jill promised not to tell the media that he cheated on Danielle with Sophia and in return, he would get back together with Danielle to keep the Daddy Directioner image. Do you see what she can do? She could tell the world that I’m gay. She could tell Louis.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted?”

I shout at him, “No! The moment he knows, he’ll run away.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

“Hey hey don’t cry,” Nick says, alarmed by my sudden outburst. He walks over to me and wraps his arm around my shaky shoulder. I cry onto his shoulders, soaking his white Tee in the process. “That was an expensive shirt you know.”

“Go away,” I laugh but it comes out like a sob. Nick then wipes away the tears still on the cheek and thankfully, I’ve exhausted all of them. He fluffs my hair and brushes his lips onto mine.

“I must be so pathetic for you to kiss me,” I laugh.

“No, you must be very irresistible when you cry that I can’t help myself,” he corrects me winking. He kisses me, this time harder than before. His hands snake down to my thighs. “Jump,” he commands me. I do so and he lifts me up to his waist, my hands around his neck. He pushes me back against the window, his hands fiddling underneath my shirt, a throaty moan escaping from the bottom of my stomach. _This boy and his hands_ , my inner god cheers.

“Harry,” Louis calls from downstairs. “Breakfast’s ready.”

Nick freezes the kiss, pulling away faster as if he was walking on hot coals. I however pull him back, wanting him more than ever.

“No, we can’t do this,” Nick shakes his head. “Not here not now.”

“Please,” I plead, breathless against his hands brushing slightly across my thighs. He lets go of me, my feet touching the ground and goes to pick up the duvet, leaving me by the window to think about my secret.

*

“Any plans for this afternoon?” Louis asks.

After Grimmy had left, nothing pretty much happened. No call from Jill, head of HJPR nor Mark from Modest!. I refused to go on Twitter to read what was happening and by noon I had almost forgotten about it but then Ed called to remind me about what happened this morning. And also we were going to Gehtto Avenue for new drugs that came in three days ago.

“I’m meeting up with Ed to buy-,” I reply, trying to play it cool but inside my heart is doing cartwheels from talking to Louis.

“Can… can I-I come?” Louis asks. I turn to him and he weakly smiles.

“You want to come?” I ask again, unsure what’s just happening. _He wants to spend time with you obviously_ , my inner god slaps me.

“Yeah. I’m always complaining that we never hang out but it’s because I’m always busy writing new songs, recording them then I have to go see Eleanor and by the time I’m back, you’re never home. Did you know this is probably the first time this year we’re both together?” Louis wonders.

“That’s bad thing considering it’s the end of March,” I estimate.

“Exactly!” Louis snickers, his fingers laying on my shoulder. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, I command myself but I miserably fail. I think about his fingers on my shoulder. _My_ shoulder. Get a grip Harry, he’s just touching your shoulder. And remove that stupid smug off your face, you look like the Joker.

“We’re going to see King’s dealer,” I say, trying to distract myself from his touch.

“Drug dealer?” he asks, his face dangerously close to my cheek I realize.

“Yeah,” I trail off.

“Co-cool.” I laugh at him seeing he suddenly becomes alarmed at the mention ‘drugs’. Louis is a ‘drugs are bad for your health’ type of person. He avoids them like the plague so much that he rarely goes to Zayn’s place because Zayn used to be a drug dealer and sorta still is but as usually no one knows that. It still amazes me how Directioners don’t know some of these obvious things. I mean, look at Zayn, he’s the only one that smokes. That’s a big, bloody clue.

 _You smoke,_ my inner god corrects.

I do but nobody knows that apart from the lads. Not Louis and the lads but Nick and the lads. So how does Louis live with me you wonder? Easy, he doesn’t know I smoke. And now that I think about it, he doesn’t know I do drugs. He knows King does but not me. _This is going to be fun_ , my inner god laughs, knowing that if Louis comes with me, he’ll see a part of me he doesn’t know.

“We’re going now,” I jump off from the couch. I grab my keys and he takes my hands into his. I look down at our entwined fingers, the world around me freezing.

“Can’t I hold my best friend’s hand?” Louis questions.

“Of course,” I smile and we walk down to the car holding hands gleefully. Or more like, me smiling like a kid who just got candy. I open the door for him and he enters. I run to the other side, open mine and drive to meet up with the other lads.

“Harry!” Ed cheers, seeing me first. Followed by Nick and King. Louis waves timidly at them and walks behind me as we head to Ed’s drug dealer’s house. The new one ‘cause apparently the one was killed on the job.

“Why are we coming so far?” Nick asks.

“Because this is wholesale nigger,” King says, like it’s the obvious thing.

“Are these for your brother’s party next week?” I ask King.

“You know it,” King says. “And I expect all of you to be there” –he pauses and looks at Louis – “and you too, if you want.”

Louis looks at me and I just smile at him, knowing how uncomfortable this place is for him. I take a shot and hold his right hand again and by sheer luck or fate or destiny or whatever people call it, he takes it and wraps his dainty fingers with mine. Ed looks me suspiciously but I dismiss the look and continue to walk.

“You walk slow,” I inform Louis, noting he’s taking slow strides.

“I do not, there’re too many rocks here,” he pout, grinning below me.

“Sure, sand nowadays is known as rocks.”

With a tinge of worry, he continues, “Says the one who’s becoming anorexic.”

“Are not,” I shake my head.

“Are too,” he insist.

“These drugs you’re about to buy will change your sex on legs to sugarcanes,” Louis says. My heart at this moment feels like it could burst into flames, melt through my lungs and ooze out of my skin because it sure feels like it already has. Or really sweaty palms in under 1.6 seconds but luckily Louis still holds onto my clammy fingers.

 _How romantic_ , my inner gold hurls.

“This place is ghetto as fuck,” Nick sneers disgustingly at the surrounding. Truth be told, this place was ghetto. Even beyond ghetto. The path we were walking on wasn’t even tarmacked, the road wasn’t painted and it had potholes in it. There were barely any trees around and the hedges growing looked like those that Snow White saw then she was in the woods. At the end of the road, we came to _his_ house. Ghetto is an understatement. It looked like a slum house filled with iron sheets both in and out; his fence was cut open and we easily bent over to enter, the shanty was leaning towards the left, probably because of the old VW on his roof. No kidding, there actually is a car on his roof!

“Is that a door?” Nick asks, looking at the door on _his_ shanty. It didn’t have a knob, the green paint (or was that olive?) had worn off and there was a thin line through the door so one could see inside easily

“What is this place Ed?” I asks.

“Wholesale nigger,” King responds.

“This guy sells drugs and he lives in a place like this?” Louis asks.

King repeats, “Wholesale nigger.”

“What happened to Jinto?” I ask about Ed’s previous drug dealer. At least he had the decency to live in the suburbs using his money well and whatnot.

“He disappeared now stop asking,” Ed shushes me.

“Before we enter,” Ed stops at the door. We all look at him, hesitantly. Louis holds my hand tighter. “Don’t be dickheads, be cool.” He turns around and pushes the door open. Not creepy at all.

“Was he talking to me?” Louis whispers from behind me. I look at him and he winks. 2, 3, 4 hours later, we leave Jinto’s house and Louis and I head home, the rest going for a party.

“Why do you buy so many?” Louis asks, as I set my multicolored drugs on the TV table. Really it’s not that much, just a couple of pounds no biggie. See Jinto, had really good offers, better than the other one and there’s this new one of the market: Coine. Its crazy good; it was made in the 1848 for treating mental cases in the asylum. It was a laxative that was used to calm them down but if you resist the urge of the drugs, you try very hard to resist it, your mind is going to be blown! Yes, sounds crazy but its wicked ‘cause King tricked him into taking it and the guy was gone after 25 minutes.

“It’s just a few,” I wave off any more questions coming off about my drugs. And suddenly I want a cigarette. “What are we watching?”

Louis crosses his eye brows at me, confused at my sudden coldness of the subject. “Um, we were watching _Misfits_.”

“You sure it wasn’t _New Girl_?”

“Pretty sure.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Don’t you wanna see Nathan work his curly hair?” Louis grins.

“What about my curly hair? I thought I had the best?” I question, mock-hurt.

“Your hair isn’t as curly!” he laughs, sitting beside me. I stand up swiftly and push him down the sofa, pinning his arms above his head, my knees sandwiching his thighs.

 _This position looks familiar,_ my inner god coos. _And dangerous._

“You take that back Lou,” I growl. He tries wriggling beneath me but I push my knees further into the green sofa.

He challenges me. “Or what,”

“You don’t dare challenge the Styles,” I say and immediately dig my nails below his ribs, sending ripples of laughter across the room. He tries to crawl beneath me but I continue tickling him, pinning him down.

“I give up I give up,” he pleas, turning his head left to right and back left. I stop tickling him, seeing like he’s about to pee in his pants and off I come and sigh as I lay my skull on the sofa head.

“You’re evil Styles,” Louis gleefully says.

He smiles and shifts closer to me. He carefully lays his head on my laps, his warm hand touching my thigh, legs folded to his stomach. For a blinding one second, I forget about everything that’s happened this morning about the world knowing my secret, Nick indirectly telling me he likes me, this afternoon when buying shitloads of drugs at great prices too and of course the climax of the story being Louis. _Remember the time he held your hand when walking to Jinto’s house_ , my inner god smiles at the sunset.

Or when the warmth of his thighs was smashing into mine. He sat close to me when Jinto was narrating his war stories of 1944, like proper close to me, I recall.

 _And when he kept glancing at you when King was giving away drugs_ , my inner god ooh’s.

He did? I gleefully wonder. My heart does a somersault, and one for Louis. I guess it didn’t matter if he looked at me or not, just as long as he was beside me, I didn’t care what we were doing together. Ugh, I sound like a caveman.

“But I’m better than Nathan.”

“Yes you are.”


	8. [Don't Let Me Get Me]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting with Modest! does not go well for Harry.

_++_

**_Interviewer:_ ** _What’s one thing you want that money can’t buy?_

**_Harry:_ ** _Freedom_

_++_

 

“What’s going on with the both of you?” Zayn asks, chewing on his gum furiously.

Let me get you up to speed, Harry and Louis stopped talking to each other. Well, that’s not entirely true, they do talk – in loud pitches, low bases and with fists. Harry’s the one with the fists. It started that night they were cuddled before the TV and Harry took massive amounts of Coine and the next day, he was in a dazed phase of high, and Louis told Harry once to ‘sod off’ because ‘I’m working’ to which Harry took it personally and punched him accidentally below the ribs but it continued like this for the rest of the afternoon. King and Ed came over and off they went out and the next morning Harry would have no recollection of yesterday’s events.

This continued for a week now and every day, Louis secretly grew scared and terrified of Harry, incapable of knowing what Harry might do to him next.

“Nothing,” Louis angrily says shifting in his seat, his eyes downcast on his thighs.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Niall says, scrolling down his Blackberry.

“I don’t know who you are anymore,” Louis spits out.

Harry turns to face Louis asking, “What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a drug addict!” Louis spits out. There’re gasps from the rest of the band members, each one glancing at Harry and back at Louis for an explanation. “Last week we went to buy pounds and pounds of drugs, you smoke 3 packets of cigarettes before noon, you drink alcohol like a fish-”

Perplexed the boys stop Louis from his revelation about their cheeky band member and bombarding Louis with questions.

“You smoke cigarettes?”

“You buy drugs?”

“Three packets is a lot mate.”

“Who are you buying drugs from?”

“Why is your hair messy?”

“You’re becoming an alcoholic too!?”

Liam is the first one to speak up, “Is this true Harry?”

Harry muffles his words, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Liar,” Louis shouts.

“That’s enough,” Jill says, entering the room, the rest of Modest! Management and HJPR following. “Let’s have this meeting begin.”

“Great,” Harry sighs heavily. “Can’t wait for you to start.”

“Why don’t we start with you then, Mr Styles,” Jill says bitterly when mentioning his name.

“This is gonna be a jolly good time.”

“Shut it Styles,” Mark warns.

“You’re reputation has gone for the worse, Mr Styles,” Jill says and at this point Simon Cowell enters the room and sits opposite Liam across the room. “You’re constantly in the media for going to burlesques, leaving strip clubs with well-known porn stars like Chelsea Anderson, your association with King is bad reputation for the band. Those are the facts. The rumors on the other hand are far much worse that I can’t even talk about it.”

“I’m sure there are some positive outcomes from this,” Simon interrupts Jill.

She nervously looks at the man who could fire her with a snap and back to her folder. She flips a blue paper and mock-smiles. “There are some positives.”

“Who would have known,” Louis sneers.

“Your following rate on Twitter has increased from 15 million to 24 million in a single month which is quite impressive. The One Direction account also has gained a few follows, seven million to be exact. Despite that, we have had more publicity than ever this year. Magazines, TV stations, radio stations, there are even calendars, authors from America down to Bolivia and across to Zanzibar and touch down on Tajakistan” – people awe at this – “This is a game changer for One Direction.”

“I think we should have a world tour about now,” Mark concludes what Jill was beating around the bush for.

“Whoa,” Liam gasps. “Are you sure? We’re only on our third album!”

“It’s too soon to do a worldwide tour,” Zayn chips in.

“I don’t think we’re good enough,” Niall says quietly.

“You’re perfect,” Simon says throwing his hands up in the air. “You’re at the top of your game at this point and it will be a loss and a bit stupid not to take advantage of this situation that Harry made for all you” – Harry’s eyes dart to Simon and then back to the wall behind him blindly – “It’s paramount that we take on the world right now when everyone has their eyes on your, and sweep them off their feet with a world tour; the Where We Are Tour.”

“Where we are?” Liam questions, glancing at the other lads.

“Yes, to represent the journey that you’ve all come from since the beginning,” Mark nods.

“And the icing on the cake is going to go to Harry,” Jill smiles. Harry dazes at her, suddenly bringing his mind and spirit to the room. “You’re going to date Lana Del Ray.”

“What?”

“Because of Nicholas Grimshaw’s tweet about Larry Stylinson and implying that you are a homosexual which you are not,” Jill explains.

“I will not,” Harry disagrees.

“As usual you never cooperate,” Louis rolls his eyes.

“Says the one with 12 million followers on Twitter. Even Zayn passed you, he has 14 million followers,” Harry retorts and faces the panel. “I’m not going to date Lana.”

“Yes you will Harry. It’s for publicity to stop them from talking about Larry Stylinson and to silence them, a new girl in your life will settle that,” Mark explains.

“Absolutely not!” Harry stands up, a bit too fast as he wobbles. “I will not date anyone to maintain an image, that’s bullshit!”

“No it’s not, it’s-”

“Yes it is, why am I being forced into it? Why am I dating Lana, why can’t Niall do it?”

“You’re the face of One Direction, not Niall. You’re always in the media, you’re the one you’re talked about, you’re the one they always want to see not Niall and you’re the one they want. Therefore you’re the one who’s going to date Lana. Zayn can’t because he’s engaged to Perrie, Liam is dating Sophia and Louis is dating Eleanor.”

“Bitch,” Harry whispers.

“What was that?” Louis stands, his face close to Harry’s. Liam and Zayn quickly stand and put him back down and Louis uses the opportunity to try and slap Harry through openings of their bodies.

Jill takes of her glasses and folds them, placing them delicately on the table. “Harry Edward Styles, when I first saw you I knew you were a natural star. There was something that Simon saw in you that I see now.”

“What’s that?” Louis snorts.

“Charisma,” she smiles. “You have the charm that could burn down a farm house, if not managed properly. How else would you explain the sudden love from the entire world for you? It’s because you’re what everybody wants; the charisma.”

She glares at Harry saying the last word, with words unspoken, he knows what she means by that. He’s using his secret of being a hanger in the closet to control him. To do whatever is pleases the court. He was screwed.

“This is blackmail,” Harry whispers.

“What do you mean?” Simon asks.

“Yes, Harry, whatever do you mean by ‘blackmail’?” Jill asks.

Harry doesn’t say anything, but glares at her, his knuckles white, his mouth spitting with anger and the feeling of being caged.

“Sometimes I wish I could quit.”

Everyone stops what they’re doing, thinking or about to say and turn to Harry. What did he just say? He wants to quit?

“Mate,” Liam echoes.

Niall shakes his head, “You’re kidding-”

“I’m not,” Harry says flatly.

He’d had enough really. The media constantly down his throat about Larry Stylinson, his bad reputation surrounded with drugs, women and booze, his dwindling friendship with his own band mates, the mates that are meant to be his rock (he ended up finding semi-drug and alcohol addicts, how screwed can you get?), waking up at ungodly hours to record dumb love songs, and not forgetting hearing about Louis talk about his gorgeous girlfriend when he had time – his free time, anytime, all the time, every time, Eleanor Eleanor Eleanor.

How about EleaNO!

“Simon told us it would be difficult entering the music industry,” Harry explains. “That we would be knocked right, left and center but we didn’t actually know what that meant at the time. There’re definitely times when I’m not enjoying it completely and it gets worse when I go home. I shake off the devil feeling by getting drunk. But you know what I’ve personally learnt?”

He looks around the room; at every head in the room, at Jill, Mark, Simon Cowell, Paul their bodyguard, the other Paul, personal assistants, financial assistants and to his left Niall, Zayn, Liam and Louis. They all waited with battered breath to what he would say.

“I learnt that you need to change everything you are to be a pop star. Or a superb liar,” Harry grins.

“And a brilliant pop star you’ve turned out to be, why throw it all away?” Jill asks. She smiles wickedly at him, laughing at his whole act.

“Yeah Harry, we’re meant to be mates,” Zayn chips in.

“We’re meant to stick together no matter what comes between us,” Liam adds on.

“We’re brothers,” Niall stands up, giving Harry a hug. Harry reacts violently and slaps his Irish lad across the face, sending his body to the floor for a warm, thundering hug.

“I’m not you’re fucking brother,” Harry growls. Zayn and Liam rush to help Niall on his feet, and Louis takes his chance and sends Harry’s body sprawling for the floor too.

Louis asks, “You bastard, what wrong with you?”

“All of you,” Harry shouts, heading for the door.

Simon’s voice stops him on his way out. “Harry, you need to step back and weigh the pros and cons of what you’re doing here.”

 

**_Harry Styles_ ** _@Harry_Styles 11:36AM  
I’m being forced into it._

 

*****

 

“Fucking bastards!”

Harry joined the rest at Ed’s house after the meeting, anger mixed with purely fed up with being in a band, a bloody famous band that became big too fast, too soon and too quick that it was blowing his mind off. Like the weed he was blowing off right now.

King looks up from his phone and asks, “What are you on about now bro?”

“Everybody is against me,” he shouts.

“We weren’t,” Nick says.

“What this one needs, is a good fuck and a great night out,” Ed says. “We’re going out!”

5, 6, 7 hours later they are at a club downtown, one that would be questionable if a celeb dared pass there. Or where herpes, chlamydia and their cousins live but with cheap booze who’s wondering?

“To a happy life!” Ed cheers.

Strobe lights, loose morals and plently of drinks sent the boys out of this world. None of them had their common sense intact, and all were silly drunkards.

“This is probably the best night I’ve ever had,” Harry slurs to Nick who was grinding on him, sweaty chests against sweaty chests.

“You deserve it babe,” he screams above the music, moaning at the sudden friction in his pants.

“You like that babe?” Harry smirks.

“I hate you,” Nick says. He’s immediately swooned by Harry, his back against the hairless chest boy. Soon enough his entire body is electrified by a tongue caressing the nape of his neck upwards. Harry’s hands snake around his waist, holding him as the other grips his hair, pulling his face forward for better access of Harry’s tongue.

“I heard about Lana,” Nick says as Harry’s fingers tag the hem of his shit.

“What about her?” he whispers, hot breath waving to his ears.

“Are you and Lana official?”

Harry pushes his body close to his with one hand. “It’s publicity babe.”

Nick walks with him, hitting him on the wall. “Playing video games are we?”

“You know you’re my national anthem,” Harry smiles against his collarbone. He bites on it, hot breath escaping from Nick, his pants becoming restricted.

“And you’re my multimillion dollar man,” Nick smiles. With his left hand he snakes it between the space of his body and the young, sweaty body in the club, unzipping his pants.

Harry’s fingers trail his arms, every vein being awoken from its slumber. They stop on the spandex of his Georgi Armani black skinnies. _Dashing_. “I’m not American.”

“But you’re body electric,” he moans when Harry swooshes away his belt in a second.

“You’re my dark paradise,”

He unzips Nick’s black zipper, releasing his growing boner. “And so is your love bite.”

Nick panics. “We can be seen.”

“It’s dark inside here and nobody cares what we’re doing,” Harry reassures him.

“You always were favorite member of One Direction.”

“And we were born to die.”

Nick turns around and cups Harry’s face in his hand. He slowly grinds on Harry’s crotch, his eyes closing tightly closing shut, a moan escaping from his filthy mouth.

“Ride me,” Nick whispers to his mouth.

“With pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awesome song by P!nk (Don't Let Me Get Me) AND the quote that Harry said in an interview!!!
> 
> BEAUTIFUL, BEAUTIFUL, BEAUTIFUL !


	9. [+]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has to make a choice: his wild friends or his crush.

_++_

_It’s getting dark in this heart of mine **~ Passenger**_

_\+ +_

 

“You know you suck at Monopoly right?” Louis says, collecting 2 million from my rent.

“And you suck at real estate,” I say. “You’ve lost a lot of money building hotels.”

“Says the one with 20,000 in the bank,” Louis smiles. “I still have my 7 million.”

“Thank you for-” I begin to thank him, but he interrupts me.

“Don’t apologize. It’s my fault we were arguing. You showed me a part of your world that I didn’t know and I judged you for it. I’m sorry,” he apologizes, looking at me softly as my skin tingles at every word he mouths. This beautiful boy is going to be the death of me.

Suddenly there was a loud bang on the door, like bear-like bangs followed by the doorbell ringing incessantly.

“Who’s that?” I ask.

“This is why I asked for bodyguards but all of you laughed at me,” Louis says.

“And we’re still laughing,” I say heading for the door which looks like it’s being clawed by stray dogs. The door falls before my feet with a huge thud before I reach it.

King is the first one to speak up. “Let’s kill this bitch.”

_What?_

“What have you done to my door?” I ask him, weirdly calm.

“Did you not just hear me?” King wonders, walking in.

Next follows are the lads, and other men who I don’t recognize before but I’m assuming they’re part of the King’s basketball team. Louis stands up, a bit scared by the number of people in our apartment now. Ed removes bottles of alcohol from the fridge and Nick brings in loads of glasses from the kitchen.

“What are you guys doing here?” Louis asks.

“This is none of your business, boy,” King hisses.

“It is!” Louis says. “You’re in our apartment.”

I glare at King before he backslashes Louis and I ask him the same question again. “Who are we killing?”

“Ellie,” Nick says.

“Ellie Goulding?” I question. “Your ex?”

“Yeah,” Ed says, tipping back a whiskey bottle. “She’s ruining my life. She’s suing me.”

“For what?”

“That doesn’t matter. We’re seeking revenge and we’ve got a plan,” Ed says, his face bright red.

“A sweet plan,” basketball guy number 1 says. He’s enormously tall with a black, shiny head you can fry eggs on.

“What’s the plan?”

“You’re not serious Harry,” Louis says coming into my view. Before I respond, another basketball guy talks.

“We’re hiring a hit man to kill her.”

“Kill her?”

“I said we’re killing this bitch, keep up Styles,” King groans.

This is probably getting out of hand but the alcohol in my body was rushing faster than my logic so I continued the “Let’s kill Ellie Goulding” plan. “Where are you guys going to find a hit man?”

“I’ve done this before, right?” King explains. “So, I’ll call this guy and Ed my man is going to lure Ellie to a hotel, apologizing and shit. Then he’s going to go downstairs to order some shrimps or whatever you white people do on romantic dates and then my hit man is going to barge into the room and shoot her.”

“Aren’t you going to be heard?” Louis asks.

“No dumb bitch,” King groans, hating Louis permanently already. “They make guns that shoot without a sound.”

“Who is this hit man?” I ask, considering I know most of King’s ‘people’; his private investigator (yes he has one because “black people die quicker if they’re famous” or whatever he was saying that night in LA), his private stripper, his mom’s hair stylist, his brother’s dog trainer… why do I know these people though? Anyway, I’ve never met his hit man.

“It’s this guy.” He points to a man in the corner suited up in black and white with black glasses. He looks like James Bond, like the real deal. But when did he enter? “He’s French, so he’s the best.”

“Okay,” I say, processing the whole plan. “When is he going to do this _thing_?”

King turns to one of his basketball guys and he turns to the French James Bond and says something to him in French. Soon they start conversing leaving the rest of us looking at each other wearyingly.

“I’m not a party pooper but-” I ask but of course I was cut off, knowing that my worrying side was going to ruin the moment.

“Please don’t do this Harry,” Ed begs, slurring his words, smoking rings coming off his mouth. “I loved her very much, okay? I would have done anything for her because she made me feel special in so many ways. When people look at me they just see a homeless ginger singing crappy songs but she didn’t.”

“What happened?” I ask.

“Taylor and I went to party along with Austin-“

“Who’s Austin?” King asks.

“Austin Mahone,” Nick rolls his eyes.

King murmurs something along “who’s that?” and Ed continues. “We all went to some club in LA after a concert right and I got so drunk that Taylor and I got a bit comfortable with each other. Of course I wouldn’t do that because you two were together once” – he looks at me – “but of course, stupid Swifties took pictures of us and it went viral. The next thing Ellie was shouting at me through the phone. I flew back to London to explain, skipping my concerts but she wouldn’t listen to me.”

“You’re killing her because of that?” Louis wonders.

“That kind of thing happens, you dump her ass,” basketball guy 2 says, his voice very deep.

“Or kill her ass,” another basketball guy adds.

“Your hit man is conning all of you,” Louis says, silencing the room.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I can hear what he’s saying,” Louis says, his arms crossed. “He’s not going to kill her but take all of your money and run. He’s not a killer either.”

“You speak French?” I ask.

“I’m a sixteenth Belgian,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing.

King crunches on the crisps, rolling his eyes. “White people.”

The basketball guy who was talking to French James Bond turns to us and says the plan is in place and Ellie will be killed on Saturday, two days’ time.

“Alright guys, let’s do this,” Ed cheers, tipping back the bottle.

“Harry don’t do this!” Louis says, worry in his eyes.

“I have too,” I say. “King is my best friend and I’d do anything for him.”

“Even kill innocent people?”

Before I can respond, my phone rings, seeing Liam’s call. “What’s up?”

_Who’s in the apartment Harry?_

“What? Why?” I ask, confused.

_Louis texted me saying they’re 15 people in the apartment. Are you having a party?_

“No I’m not. When did he call you?” I ask, looking around the room and not spotting him. Wasn’t he here a minute ago, telling me not to do this? Where did he go?

 _Please send those people away Harry, he’s very scared_.

“Why would he be scared?”

 _You have questionable friends Harry, that some of them even scare Zayn like King and his friends_. _Zayn, Harry Zayn. Zayn Mr Tough Guy._

“I get it Liam.”

_Send them away._

“Fine mom,” I groan. I hung up and go look for Louis in his room. I saw him lying on his bed, covered beneath his blanket. He looked genuinely scared under those blankets. “Are you scared of King?”

“You or King, I really don’t know anymore,” he says looking up at the ceiling. I walk to his bed, sitting on the edge of it. I look at him, admiring his face that was most definitely made by God on the eighth day.

“Me? Why are you scared of me?”

He sits up on his bed, ignoring the fact that his breath is hitting my face as he talks to me. “You’re taking part in a murder Harry. Think about that. Then you’re popping pills like they’re tic tacs which is destroying your health but as usual you don’t notice that because you’re living life on the fast lane. A dangerous one as well.”

I defend myself, “That’s not true.”

“You’re a drug addict Harry. I’ve seen you driving off to Ed’s drug dealer’s house every week, bringing home a bigger bag batch than before. What you’re doing right here is wrong on so many levels Harry, it’s poisonous. Your friends are poisonous.”

“They’re not.”

“Are too Harry. You’re so blind you don’t see your friends are bad influence,” he shakes his head, clearly angry.

“You’re one to talk,” I say.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t judge your friends but you judge mine,” I say, standing up and backing away from him.

“I don’t have drug dealers, hit men and alcoholics for friends,” he says getting out of bed and walking towards the door. I grab his hand tightly, my hand freezing for a moment at the touch. I shake the ungodly thoughts and defend my friends.

“We all have our faults Louis. I met King, Ed and Nick at a low point in my life, okay?” I say. “I met them when there were all these rumors about Larry Stylinson and everybody around me was digging fingers into my life and I didn’t have any more privacy.”

“Boo hoo, what a sob story,” Louis rolls his eyes. “We were right here; Zayn, Liam, Niall and me.” Is it me or did he stress the ‘me’ part?

“None of you were. Niall was always busy writing songs with 50 Cent which surprise surprise, failed miserably. Zayn was busy trying to fix his dead relationship with Perrie, Liam was too busy apologizing to Danielle and trying to win her back which clearly failed because he’s with Sophia now. And you Louis, always going out with Eleanor that you don’t have time for your best friends. My friends make time to be with me, none of you do. So yeah Louis, I had great friends at that time.”

“Why are you always hating on Eleanor?” Louis asks.

“You always talk about her all the time, ‘Eleanor is so great’; ‘Eleanor is so funny’; ‘Eleanor and I would be great friends’; yadda yadda yadda, I don’t care about her,” I shout at him.

“Don’t talk about Eleanor like that n-”

“Shut the fuck up about Elewhore!”

“It’s Eleanor shit face!” Louis groans and walks out of the bathroom, muttering under his breath. He grabs the keys along the corridor along with his leather jacket. _When did he get that sweet leather?,_ my inner god questions. Now is not the time, I silence him.

I grab his hand, stopping him from heading to the door. I close my eyes and calm myself. “I’m sorry Louis, I didn’t mean to shout at you. I didn’t mean to offend you about Eleanor.”

_Liar, liar, liar!!!_

“I meant everything I said, your friends are poisonous,” he solemnly says.

“Why are we always fighting?” I mutter. He tries to walk away but I spin him around, holding him by the shoulders.

“Prove to me that you’re not like your friends?” Louis says, pointing to the others with his head.

“How?”

“Come with me,” he says. My heart skips a beat and my mind wanders to far places where it’s not meant to go. I imagine as running away together to Hawaii or Seychelles, away from the media and the world where it’s just us two; cuddling, eating ice cream and watching the sunset every day. Or whatever couples do together

“What?”

“It’s either me or them.”

 _What_. “Uh,” I hesitate.

“Ellie,” Ed cries.

“Harry,” Louis mouths.

“Um…” I hate choices. I really do. I always make bad ones; being friends with King and the others, being in this stupid band, choosing sides in my family instead of all of them, agreeing to publicly date Lana. The worst choice I ever made was probably staying in the closet and never getting out of it. But because your character is made up of your choices, and I, if the media is anything to go by, have a bad one. So what’s another bad choice to add to the list?

“I can’t,” I say, looking down at my own two feet.

“You’re just like them,” he shakes his head, shutting the door behind him.

“Please don’t leave,” I cup my hands on my face, my shoulders shaking as the tears flow freely from eyes without my permission. Damn these bloody tears, why do they always come when you least want them.

“It’s fine,” one basketball guy says, behind me, rubbing my back.

“Listen Harry,” Nick says, his feet touching my toes. “Louis is just upset right now so he’s not thinking straight. But he’ll come back, he always does because you guys are Larry Stylinson.”

“We were fine this morning until all of this happened,” I cry out. He wipes my cheeks with his thumb. “He’s not coming back Grimmy.”

“He always does, doesn’t he?” Nick asks. He cups my wet, rough cheeks with his soft palms and archs my face to his, our lips meeting in the morning light.

“Are y’all always going to be kissing at random times?” King asks, sticking his tongue out.

“As long as it takes,” Nick smiles, helping me up.

“Louis would never leave you,” Ed says smiling.

“Everything I do is always wrong in his eyes. I can never do anything right anymore. I make bad choices,” I groan. Because this is what it feels like. All the time I’m with Louis or the other lads, they’re judging me, always whispering behind my back. To make matters worse, so does the media. There’s nothing good that people see in me, when people look at me all they see is a pop star gone wrong.

 _It’s true_ , my inner god nods. _You’re the next Lindsay Lohan._

Ed shuts the voice in my head. “No matter what happens between you too, he cares for you. He puts his needs before yours all the time, you’re just blind to see it.”

“And for your choices, you make good ones but you can’t see it,” King says from across the room.

“I’m an idiot aren’t I?” I laugh.

“Yes you are,” Nick smiles, giving me an eskimo kiss. “Our idiot.”

“Before these two idiots kiss _again_ , can we start our plan?” King asks.

“Jealous?” I laugh.

“Never,” King says, walking towards the door followed by his team mates. We follow them out to the door to start our plan. Nick and I get into my Range, Ed and King in one as the others in a big, orange bus that’s quite disturbing to look at now.

“I promise he’ll be back,” Nick says, rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles. I reach across and meet his lips halfway in kiss. He slips his arm behind me as I cup his lips between mine.

“You always make me feel better,” I say. “But what would make me feel better right now is a snort.”

Nick digs into his pocket and jiggles a white bag. “Got it covered.” He and I snort a bit of coke before heading to the hotel where Ellie and Ed would be staying this weekend.

A call from Dr Histugaya interrupts us before I start the car. “Sorry, it’s somebody.”

“Louis?”

“No, somebody,” I say and answer her.

 _Harry, so glad I got you, I’ve been trying to get in touch but you’re always on voicemail_.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy. What’s wrong?”

_I don’t know how to say this…_

“What is it?” Nick looks at me with worried eyes, my voice making conclusions about what she could be telling me.

_I got a call from your personal doctor, seeing as she had permission to share whatever information she had about you. I don’t have good news._

“What do you mean, good news?”

_Harry, you have gonorrhea._

My breath gets hitched in my throat. “What?”

 _That’s not all_.

“There’s more?” I ask.

_Yes Harry._

“What could be worse than having gonorrhea?” I ask and immediately hear a gasp beside me. Nick is staring at me, his mouth has hit the bottom of the car. He pokes me, asking how I have what I have and I miss what Dr Hitsugaya had said. I swat his arm angrily and he finally he lets me be.

“I’m sorry doctor, what did you say?”

 _I said you’re HIV positive_.


	10. [Kiss Me Through The Phone]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Eleanor go about finding more about Harry's "problem".

Click.

_New just in, new evidence has been found in the hotel room where Ellie Goulding was staying at with her ex-boyfriend Edward Sheeran. Police have found several drugs, one of them cocaine, linked to an ex-military office, Jenicks Dulat. So far, there are no suspects and no arrests have been made but police investigations are still ongoing for the killer of Ellie Goulding. If anyone knows anything, please report to the police immediately._

Click.

“You guys actually killed her?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “It was actually fun.”

I shake my head at what he just confessed. “If they find you were behind this, they’ll arrest you and One Di-”

“You need to calm down Louis,” Harry tells me. “They’ll never find us.”

“Who’s Jenicks Dulat?”

“Ed’s drug dealer,” he replies, his eyes glued to his iPhone.

“Anyway, like I was saying before we should go on the double date,” I say, shifting conversations to something more delightful. Now that Harry and Lana Del Ray were an item, or Hana as fans call them, I thought it would be a good idea for Hana and Elounor to go on a double date. I miss hanging out with my best friend and to be honest, it’d be neat to meet Lana in person!

I grab the iPhone from his hands, shifting his attention to me. He widens his eyes, asking what I’m doing.

I pout. “You’re not listening to me.”

“You were saying something about skiing in France,” he says.

“No, but now that I think about it that would go great with what about to tell you,” I smile, my double date becoming 200% cooler than it was 30 seconds ago.

“Your ideas always involve someone falling down,” he says, his fingers leaving tracks in his hair.

“I was talking about going on a group date with me and Eleanor,” I say.

“Who would I bring?” he asks. “Nick?”

“No!” I say, my voice stern and short like a relfex. “Lana Del Ray.”

“I’m busy.” He walks to the kitchen leaving me alone on the ivory, round table.

“I haven’t set a date yet, how do you know you’ll be busy?” I ask. This was getting ridiculous. Does he hate Eleanor so much he would purposely not come for something as fun as skiing in France with me and Eleanor? At least Lana will be there.

Sitting back down with a gin bottle he says, “You do know I’m not actually dating that girl.”

“I know but it’s better you get to know her. You didn’t know Taylor Swift but look how it turned out,” I say and regret it immediately.

“She dumped me accusing me of cheating on her. So yeah, Louis, it turned out great,” he says, tipping back his bottle.

“Where do we get all these bottles of beer?” I ask.

“It’s gin.”

“I know,” I roll my eyes. Honestly, it’s like talking to a brick wall. What happened to the fun Harry who I would talk with for ages and ages, not caring that the hands of time were swiftly rolling into the wee hours of the morning? Where we didn’t have to force a conversation to take place?

“Look, I know this group date isn’t a good idea” – he snorts – “but it will be a good idea when we actually go to France. I know you don’t like Eleanor-”

“Then why are you making me go for this stupid date? Go ask Zayn or Liam,” he grunts.

“But I want to go with you,” I say and I swear for a split second his mouth dropped but of course I was seeing my own things. “Do this for me.”

“But what has Eleanor ever done to you?” I ask. “You should make an effort to get to know her instead of judging her.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re one to talk.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re always hating on Nick for god knows what reason when he’s never done anything to you. How about you make an effort and get to know him instead of judging him.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“I’m sick of hearing about Eleanor all the time, okay Louis? Our conversations before Elounor came into the picture never had _her_ in it but now all you ever want to talk with me about is Eleanor Eleanor Eleanor like I don’t hear enough of it from Zayn and Liam…”

His voice raises in volume, his pitch becoming a wolf-like growl that sends shivers on my back. I’ve never seen him get upset this much about Eleanor before. Whenever he talks about her someone is always there to interrupt us before he goes all out but I guess today he’s going to …

“What the fuck Harry?” I scream, ducking under the gin bottle that missed my face by three inches.

“And don’t you ever talk about her to me ever again,” he shouts at the top of his lungs.

“I’ll talk about her whenever I want,” I say, matching his tone. He throws his chair away and makes way to me. Before my feet can carry me away, he’s lifting me by my shirt, his nails digging into my skin for a brief second.

“I said, don’t ever talk to me about that dumb bitch,” he hisses, hot breath fanning my ear.

“Why don’t you like her?” I ask, taking this opportunity to calm him down. But at this point, he could overreact or calm down.

“Fucking bastard!”

Ding ding, we have a winner: overreact.

He hurls me across the room, my body falling with a thud on the ceramic floor.

A monster growl echoes through the room, “That dumb bitch isn’t good for you, why do you care about her?”

I try to stand up, scared stiff for my life but these Spongebob socks are slippery and I fall back to the floor. I try very hard to crawl to a phone as quickly as I can, hearing his footsteps closer to me. I reach across to the coffee table and ring Zayn on the house phone. Harry clutches it from my hand and flicks in across the room, smashing it to pieces on the wall. I turn around and shiver looking at his wolf-like face.

“Harry, stop!” I plead as he walks closer. What the hell was going on? Why was he violent all of a sudden? This can’t be just about Eleanor.

“Please don’t hit me,” I cry to him but he doesn’t seem to hear my pleas as he becomes angrier and angrier. What is making him so angry all of a sudden?

He kneels down, his nose flaring violently, his eyebrows creased (have they ever been not creased before?) and face absolutely bright in red. He raises his hand and it heads towards my face.

“Harry please.”

Except he doesn’t hit me.

I open my eyes and blink rapidly. His thumb grazes across my cheek, wiping away the tears that I didn’t even know I was…

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he says, interrupting my thoughts. I shift back as he inches closer and he stops moving towards me. His head drops down before standing up and leaving, not coming back for the next two days.

 

*

 

With everything that happened this morning, I took it upon myself to learn more about my best friend. Or more like just learn about him because it seems like I know nothing, nothing at all about him which is sad since we’ve been living together for two years now.

“His world is scary,” I cry to Eleanor through the phone.

 _That shouldn’t stop you from learning more about him_.

“Are you encouraging me to snoop around his room?” I smile, knowing Eleanor can sense it. That’s the great thing about Eleanor, my gorgeous girlfriend, she and I mirror each other’s actions. It’s almost like we’re two different halves put together.

_I can see your smile. Besides, that never stopped you before, Tommo._

I heave out. “I don’t know what to do.”

_Look at it like this, you’re about to learn something new about your best friend that he never told you or-_

“Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

_Because you judge him, Lou. I know you do._

“I do not judge him, I’m just concerned for him,” I defend myself.

 _You’re the reason why Grimmy doesn’t like you_.

“That cockhead is bad influence to Harry. I know it, you know it, his parents know it, the Queen knows it and even the universe knows it.”

_Not that again! Did you ever find out what happened to his dad?_

“No. Nor do I know shit about his mother. The last time she called was in two years ago in December 2010 before New Year’s Eve,” I say, remembering Harry throwing the phone against the flat screen TV after his riveting conversation with his mother on the phone. “I don’t even know his mother’s name.”

_Anne Twist._

How do you know that?” I ask, apt and amused.

_Directioners know a lot. And he has two sisters, the older one is Georgia Cox and the second born is Gemma Styles who’s in Sheffield University majoring in Psychology._

“Where’s Georgia?” I ask.

_Last I heard, she was in Russia._

“What?”

_We’re going off topic. You’re going to enter his room and search for anything that may reveal something about your best friend that would make him be your friend again._

“He hates you,” I blurt out and immediately slap my mouth with my hand.

_No need to swat your hand over your mouth, I already know._

“How?”

_Go find information on Harry!_

“You’re my rock El,” I say, sincerity in my voice. “With everything that’s happening this year, it’s been a whirlwind around here; Zayn cheating on Perrie with the Australian blond girl, Liam cheating on Danielle with Sophia and then dating her, how fucked is that?”

_So fucked._

I continue, “Then Niall trying to make a rap song with 50 Cent and then Harry, doing who knows what with god knows who.”

_Do you want me to stay on the phone?_

“Yes,” I smile. Like I said, Eleanor is the only one who can read me like a novel, even though she was miles away (she’s in Manchester so saying it is literal), she could telepathically know. “Actually no. You have to finish your Politics essay on the British Government under Margaret Thatcher.”

_How did you know?_

“You told me when you called me crying about your Politics essay,” I chuckle.

_Oh oops. I forgot!_

“Well this is my cue,” I say, heading to Harry’s room upstairs. “I love you El.”

_I love you babes and don’t think too hard, okay?_

“’Ait love, bye,” I say hanging up and opening Harry’s bedroom door. I had at least six hours before he would come home, slightly high from whatever he found at King’s house. “What do you have for me Harry’s room?”

I start with the closet, seeing as most secrets are usually in the closet according to _Cosmopolitan_ magazine. I really should stop reading Eleanor’s magazines, they’re questioning my masculinity every day. A few clothes fell on me when I opened the blue, 96 by 102 cupboard.

“Is that my Hulk T-shirt?” I wonder, picking up some of the clothes. “And my floral shirt” – I hold it up to inspect it – “and my Spiderman boxers, the pink blanket I gave him as a joke… this boy is crazy stealing my clothes.” I throw my stuff on his bed, looking for more clues could lead me to know more about Harry, my own best friend.

I dig beyond the clothes on the ground and find boxes and boxes and eventually stumble on one that shakes with dark secrets. Or shoes inside. I toss it behind me, and hear a clink. I crawl to the box and open it but before I check inside, Eleanor is calling me.

_Have you found anything?_

“No, it’s only been 30 minutes,” I say, putting her on loudspeaker. “Don’t you have an essay to write?”

_Screw that! I wanna know what you found._

“Nothing so far,” I groan. “His room is oddly clean and too formal. No posters, no messy things on the floor, his bed is actually made, his curtains are the only color in this room.”

_You’re very messy, Louis. Go to his bathroom, that’s where secrets are always kept._

“How do you know that?” I ask, heading there. “Hey, why don’t you come over we do this together?”

_Louis, stop backing out from this. Are you in the bathroom?_

“Yes and at least I’ve seen something,” I say. On the ground there were light blue pills scattered on the ceramics as if he dropped them by accident. On the sink, there were three orange tubes, all with different subscriptions.

_What?_

“He takes anxiety and anti-depressant pills,” I say, picking them and reading the labels. “One is Imipramime, Thorazine, Xanax, Cockta-”

_Whoa! Those are many._

“What are they for?” I ask.

_Let me Google it._

“Okay,” I say, listen what Eleanor was telling me about the effects of Ecstasy which was the first result on Uncle Google, or Cockta in this case which might be its street name. Basically, it was a drug that made one joyous for several hours and of course you don’t remember anything when the high is over. It’s recommended by doctors for those who are severely depressed but because it’s _Ecstacy_ , as Eleanor put it, everybody has access to it, abusing its original purpose.

“I’m trying to find what he took this morning,” I say. Whatever his outburst was about this morning, despite the Eleanor thing, I will find it in his bedroom.

_What happened this morning?_

“Nothing,” I say, knowing Eleanor knows something must have happened this morning between Harry and I. Thankfully, she drops the subject and I look for more clues. I open the cabinet mirror for my next mission.

_Have you found razors?_

“He doesn’t have facial hair.”

_No, silly, for self-harm._

“Holy shit, do you think he self-harms?” I ask, thinking about it. I rake my brain for clues of self-harmers and all I know is that they cut themselves on the wrists. Well, wrists and other places but I haven’t seen any clues on Harry’s wrists or anywhere that’s easily visible. Maybe he’s good at hiding them.

_No, Harry’s too mucho do to such a thing. What have you found?_

“You’re distracting me,” I say. Walking to the shower head, cabinet, small desk… wait, what? Why does he have a desk in his bathroom? I open it just in case and still I see nothing. I go to the toilet and just as I’m about to leave the bathroom, Eleanor screams all of a sudden.

_If I recall, so you are you my sexy footballer._

Blushing I ask her, “You saw the match?”

_Of course I did. I’m sorry I couldn’t come but why did you puke?_

“I have no idea, I think it was just the nerves,” I say. “I wish Harry came like last time.” Last time I played for match was last year in June when Doncaster Rovers FC were playing Derby and Niall and Harry decided to come and watch me play. I don’t whether it was because they felt bad that Eleanor couldn’t come or whether they really wanted to come, either way, they were there, cheering everytime I passed a ball or blocked it from the green team.

_You didn’t bloody invite him!_

“He didn’t ask!”

_Anyhow, go check the toilet!_

“Why?”

_You’re an idiot!_

“I won’t even comment but for you I will,” I say lifting the cover seat. “But I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

_Drug dealers usually hide their goods in the toilet or the toilet bowl for safety._

I lift the toilet bowl and momentarily I see the usual things one finds: lots of white, plastic things and a huge orange ball but something beneath it catches my eye. “Jackpot!”

_What is it?_

“I found his drugs,” I say removing the bag and it’s looks like a bag of Skittles but then I remember they are drugs because why would Harry hide Skittles in a toilet bowl? I place the bag on his bed, a towel underneath so as not to wet his bed covers.

“I don’t know what to do,” I confess, looking at the multicolored bag.

 _Open it James Bond_.

“He’ll find out,” I say and I see something shiny on the floor. “And I found a condom wrapper with the letter TS on it.”

_Strange. Can you read what are on the pills?_

“Yeah, I can,” I say. “They’re just numbers and letters.”

_Tell me then I Google this shit._

“Okay,” I say and pick a red pill. “E67.”

_Um, E67 is a penis enhancing drug._

I laugh with shock and just the hilarity of it, Eleanor’s sunshine laugh echoing through the room. “What the hell? Why does Harry use this?“

_Explains the condom you found. Oh, Max just told me it’s stronger than Viagra; your penis becomes so huge it’s like being fucked in your butthole._

I shiver at the thought. “That’s painful but of course Max would know.”

_Max isn’t gay and he can hear you. List the next ones._

I list the drugs in the bag, like reading a grocery list. “CF7, P90, T13, H07,J87, 56Z, XX1, JK6, DA56-”

 _Slow down Cowboy_.

“Why does he take so many drugs?“ I ask Eleanor. She senses that this isn’t one of those random question but out of sheer worry and curiosity. I was hoping she would know something before I jump to horrible conclusions.

_To be honest I don’t know Louis._

“Is it for fun? Do you think he’s being influenced by cockhead and his friends?” I ask, tasting bile in my mouth. I’ll forever regret the day when King and Nick brought drunk Harry home from some party in Glasgow because it was since that day that they became friends.

_I don’t think Ed and his other friends influenced him into drugs and booze, I just think they were the match that ignited the bonfire._

“Using metaphors are we,” I smirk. “Using your University degree to good use I see.”

_It’s simple literature. I think this problem started before they came into the picture. Drugs aren’t taken for fun as they usually mask something underneath that the person is feeling, either to suppress the pain or to get rid of it._

“What does Harry want to get rid of?” I ask. I have a flashback of when we were all in a meeting with Modest! about starting a worldwide tour and Harry did mention something about quitting which to be honest took me by surprise despite my childish hate for him. As if reading my thoughts Eleanor speaks.

_I think this whole singing thing is adding to his drug problem as well. But Louis, no matter what I know he won’t quit the band._

“He said so himself, he sometimes wishes he could quit,” I say from memory because those words are tattooed on my heart. Yes, I took them to heart because out of all of us the first person who I thought would say those words is Zayn, not Harry.

_I don’t care what he said Louis. He’s the last person who would quit because he loves his job so much, every minute and second of it he really does because he knows he’s very lucky to be where he is. Out of all of you I think he’ll be the only one still doing what he does until he’s weathered and people are asking why isn’t he dead yet._

I chuckle. “Like Keith Richards.”

_Exactly!_

“I don’t get how someone can change can so fast,” I hum. “It’s been two months and he’s a completely new person.”

_He just stopped acting how all of you told him who to act like._

“Whatever.”

_Hang up so I get more info the drugs._

“And Google King,” I say, his face popping into my mind for some reason.

_Who’s he?_

_The basketball player?_

“How do you know these people?” I ask Max.

_Your best friend is friends with him and you don’t know him? You’re hopeless Louis._

_Anything juicy about him?_

“Yeah, tell us since you’re apparently a basketball fan.”

_There’s so much about him but recently his drug dealer died ironically from an overdose. He’s also an alcoholic and he gets into lots of fights._

_Like Chris Brown 2.0, Lou._

“Google him anyway El,” I tell my girlfriend.

_Hang up so I can act like I’m on CSI._

“Bye,” I say hanging up and curl up on the floor to where I spotted the condom wrapper which was near his bedside table. I pull out the drawer and it’s cluster of keys, receipts, old paper calenders, tickets to fashion shows, photographs of his friends and one particular one catches my eye. It’s of a man, in his late twenties, brown eyes and black eye and probably could question his sexuality if his yellow shirt, blue jacket , floral bowtie and glossy lips are anything to go by. I flip it over and see the name ‘Tristan Soten’ written on it. I immediately call Eleanor for the fifth time asking her who this Tristan could be.

_Tristan who?_

“Tristan Soten,” I say it slowly. I can hear Eleanor typing on her laptop the name and Max’s voice comes into the speaker.

_He’s a gay socialite Louis, how do you not know this?_

“Who is he?” I ask Max Hurd, Eleanor’s best friend in Manchester University who apparently isn’t gay but I would bet all my money he is gay.

_He’s a fashion designer and model with Burberry and often models in famous fashion cities like Paris, New York, London... uh... and other cities. But he also models for other brands too like…._

“I’m guessing you’re a huge fan?” I ask. I didn’t care for his response, just wondering why Harry would have a photo of him? “He has Zayn’s hair.”

_He’s irrelevant to us Lou, search for some more things._

I continue my search after she hangs up and 45 minutes, 1 order of pizza, and several conversations later with Eleanor and Max, I give up, having found nothing else since the drug revelation and Mr Diva.

_Have you searched every inch of his room?_

“Yes and my back hurts from bending and sitting for too long,” I groan in pain. I stand up and stretch, releasing my inner dying walrus voice.

_Check under his bed._

I roll my eyes. “He’s not an eight year old babe.”

_Have you found anything?_

I pick up several photographs of Harry with his mates King, Nick and Ed. There were several of them, like 30 at least and it looks like they were in Vegas. “When did Harry go to Vegas?”

_You don’t remember? It was during our one year and eighth anniversary._

“Oh,” I simply say and stare intently at the picture. The four lads were standing behind the famous sign that says ‘Las Vegas’. Ed was standing near King to the left, followed my Nick who had his arms wrapped around King’s shoulders. Harry was on the far right with Nick’s arm around his waist, Harry leaning his head against Nick’s shoulder. He looked really happy. Happier than he is with _us_ , his own band members. Those happys that edge and ooze out of the picture and you just want to for a moment jump into the picture and feel the happiness for yourself… I don’t know.

“He look’s happy.”

_Who looks happy?_

I didn’t realize I had said that out loud! “It’s Harry in Vegas. He looks genuinely happy.”

_Who isn’t when they go to Vegas?_

“No I’m serious El,” I say. “His smile is the same one like the one he wore during the X Factors, genuine, authentic, and child-like. You can see it oozing out of his friggin’ pores. Unlike nowadays he doesn’t even smile this much.”

_Things happen Lou._

I put the picture down and look for more things inside the box besides more photos of Harry and his friends.

“Uh Eleanor, how do pregnancy tests look like?” I ask, holding what looks like a pregnancy test. The first thought that comes to mind is if Harry is pregnant and mentally punch myself so hard at the thought and my second guess is it could be Lana Del Ray.

_What have you found?_

“Something that looks like a pregnancy thingy,” I say shaking it and wondering what the scientific name is for the gadget.

_Is there a line through it?_

“Yes there is.”

_Is it a straight line or a plus sign._

“A plus sign,” I say, anxious at what Eleanor is getting at.

_Oh!_

I want to jam my hand through the phone and choke her. “What is it Eleanor?”

_Louis , Lana is pregnant!_


	11. [Dancing Flack]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry goes to his old girlfriend for good, solid advice.

_++_

_I don’t love you but I always will – **The Civil Wars**_

_++_

 

“Hello Mr Styles, may I help you?” the receptionist smiles upon seeing my familiar face. She was the receptionist to Caroline Flack’s TV business or whatever she did here. I never got what she did because all I could think about was getting her to bed. Ayye!

“Hello, is Caroline Flack in?” I inquire as formal as I possibly can. It’s a good thing I wore my blue blazer, white V-neck and the black skinnies that my ex always loved on me.

“Yes she is but she’s in a meeting-”

“Thank you Julie,” I smile, winking at her and leave, feeling her blush from behind.

As I head back up I pass the common room TV, photos of Lana and I already up from this morning. As per my agreement of publicly dating her, we had breakfast this morning, and of course HJPR had called the paparazzi and a small note had been sent anonymously to them saying where we were exactly. I still don’t know if I like Lana yet but she does have better conversations than Taylor but my favorite would always be Caroline.

Always.

“Harry!” Caroline says when she sees my head through the door. “I’m in a meeting.”

“They can leave, I have something that could change your company in an instant,” I say holding the door open for her clients to leave. They finally got the message and left. I poured myself a 18-year old scotch and sat down on her comfy leather chair.

“Help yourself, really, don’t mind me,” Caroline says, rolling her eyes.

“Great place you’ve got here,” I say ignoring her sarcastic comment.

“So what’s going to change my company?”

“Nothing,” I say, gulping the last sip of scotch. “I need a favor.”

“No, not again. All the time you walk through this door you always want something from me because you can do this to me,” she says. “I apologized every single day until you slapped me to stop, I keep sending gifts and everything trying to fix what I did-”

“Stop trying,” I say, getting up for more scotch. “The past is the past and this is my last favor I’m asking from you.”

“Sure, that’s what you said last time.”

“I’m serious. I have a plan and I’m starting it now,” I say. “I have a plan.”

“What plan?” she asks. “Does it involve Lana?”

“No, why would it?” I ask leaning against the wall.

She shrugs. “Well, you’re rumored to be dating her.”

“No… well yes I’m dating her but it’s not like that, it’s publicity,” I say ignoring the fleeting sad look from her visage. “You’re the one who told me something memorable when you stole my virginity.”

“Stole? That’s not what I remember.”

“You took it from me Caroline,” I say, memories of that night shuddering and intoxicating. I look down at my drink and suddenly lose appetite. “You violated me.”

“Didn’t you want sex?”

“I did,” I say looking down at my thighs. “It was you that was the issue.” – I look up – “ You always treated me like a boy toy because I was 18 years younger than you. People always told me that I should dump you they said that we weren’t meant to be together, that I was young and naïve to know about forever, but I ignored all of them; management, my band members, my PR, my best friends and even Gemma. Even my own mother had the audacity to call and tell me to break it off.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I love you Caroline,” I confess, the sincerity taking me by surprise. “Despite what you did I still love you and I always will.”

“And then you became gay.”

“I have you to thank.”

She glares up at me, her mouth twitching in apprehension. Clearly someone doesn’t find it funny. “I wish you had an affair instead of being gay, it would have been easier to swallow.”

“You never swallowed, you always spit dear, sweet Flack,” I mock.

“What were you going to say?”

I sit back down opposite her with empty my glass of scotch. “You said that all our lives we should dance. We may not like the music that’s being played, it may change suddenly when we like the one that was there before, we may not even like the genre but whatever it is, as long as the music is playing, I will keep dancing.”

 _Well that was some deep shit_ , my inner god says, wiping a tear from his face.

“That’s what my mom told me when I got married!”

“Did she tell you to sleep with people 19 years younger than you when you get divorced?” I ask, laughing at my own joke.

She ignores me. “So the music has changed for you?”

“Yes and it has and I bloody hate it but I need to dance.”

She leans forward in her desk, her voice strong with concern. I, on the other hand, take out my special stack of cigarettes. I light up two, relief swimming around me as I exhale. “What changed in your life that changed the music Harry?”

“Being gay.”

“It’s obviously not being gay because you already told me so what’s changed now?”

I look at her without saying anything. Should I tell her? Should I not? To be honest, if it was anyone I was going to tell, it would be Caroline. Yes, Caroline first, not Louis nor Nick or whoever but Caroline. But I don’t think I was ready to tell her about my plan, my excellent plan that was falling into place.

“We’re getting off topic.”

“Harry, you know I care about you, so please tell me what has changed.”

“I almost beat Louis up,” I confess, shutting my eyes when I saw his face; scared to death at what I was doing.

“Why the hell would you do that?” she yells. “Are you trying to chase him away?”

“He was talking about Eleanor all the time and I think I just snapped,” I say and she shakes her head. “Listen up, my best friend Nicholas Grimshaw-”

“Nick? The gay radio presenter?” she asks. “I thought you’re trying to be in the closet?”

“As I was saying, he was fired from his job because of me-“

“What did you do?” she asks.

“Stop interrupting. So he got fired from his job, nobody is hiring him because Mr Ranger, his boss, refused to write any recommendation letters for him and when he did, they were all negative obviously to spite him so he’s unemployed. “

“Why are you telling me this?”

“This is where you come in. You are friends with the boss of BBC Radio 1 and I know this because you’re pretty obvious with your sexual partners. I want you to get my best friend to work for BBC Radio 1 _pronto_.”

“I can’t do that,” she says shaking her head. “You can’t do this to me Harry. You know I don’t pull pranks and tricks like that off the hat because for crying out loud I’m not Dumbledore.”

 _Where are the Harry Potter references coming from?_ my inner god asks.

“Listen, you have to do this for me okay? I messed his life pretty bad and he’s barely able to pay rent anymore. Actually, I paid his rent for the next 6 months but he’s still upset with me,” I say.

“If he worked for TV then I would have called him right away and work for me by tomorrow,” she says.

“How would your new sexual partner feel about what you did to your ex-boyfriend?” I say, knowing I was getting under her skin.

“Harry, don’t you dare.”

“He would be pretty upset to hear what you did to your ex-boyfriend. He will start calling my people to know what happened to our relationship and trust me, I have a lot to say about our relationship.”

“So do I,” she says. “You’re gay and I can use that against you.”

“That’s a tiny detail to what you did to me Caroline,” I say, raising my voice. “You violated me Caroline. You ruined me for love-”

“I’m fucking sorry Harry,” she screams.

“Do this and I’ll let everything you did to me slide,” I say, sighing.

“Everything?” she asks, her head bowing down, her eyes piercing into mine like a shooting arrow.

“Yes.”

“You’ll forgive me?”

“Yes.”

“Just like that?”

“Yes.”

“For real?”

“Shut up.”

“Oh Harry, thank you,” she glees, running around her desk and pulling me up for a hug. “Thank you thank you thank you I will call him today, right now in fact! Thank you!”

She pulled away, composing her herself. “But you never did tell me, what is your plan?”

“No need to worry, it’s a good plan,” I say.

 _I don’t even know your plan,_ my god says.

But your inside my head, I roll my eyes.

 _Yes but you’re not telling me,_ my inner god overreacts as usual. The drag queen. _I am not a drag queen_.

“Uh Harry, you okay?”

“Hmm, oh yeah. Call me when you’re done,” I say walking out and for fun I threw a glass behind me, hearing it crash.

“You’re an idiot,” she chuckles.

“I’m your favorite idiot,” I smile.

 

*****

 

“Thanks for paying my rent,” Nick clinks my glass and plops himself on the one-man massage leather seat that I gave him for his 26th birthday.

After a fake breakfast with Lana Del Ray, a certain conversation with my ex-girlfriend Caroline in the afternoon, a call from Paul Roberts, our choreographer asking where I was [and a text from Liam, duh], I finally went to Nick’s house to chill with the lads.

“Conor, hey.” I hug him.

“If I knew losing my job was all it took for Harry to pay my rent, I would have quit long ago,” Ed says, rolling weed into a circular, paper tube.

“I owe him,” I confess. I sit near King who’s busy playing Black Ops not noticing me at all. This man and video games. “Did you guys see the news today?”

“Yeah, Lana’s pretty hot,” Conor says. “Better choice than Taylor, you’re improving your style… Styles.”

“Piss off!”

“Defending your girlfriend-”

I wave my hand, telling them to drop the subject of Lana. I take a swig of gin and continue. “The news about Ellie…”

“Oh yeah, her funeral is on Wednesday,” Ed says.

“Are you going?”

Ed shakes his head. “Never.”

“Listen,” King says standing up. “We need to celebrate.”

“Why? Do you have a new girlfriend?” I coo. “What happened to Shandra?”

“Or Daniella.”

“Liam’s Daniella?” Conor asks me, looking confused.

“No, that was Danielle with an ‘e’,” I say.

“I do have a girl and she’s different than all the other chics I’ve been with,” King says, smiling like a teenage boy.

“That’s what they all say,” Nick says. His phone rang just then and he walked out of them room to whoever he was talking to.

“Her name is Khloe,” he says. _Khloe Kardashian?_ my inner god asks. That’s an improvement, I agree. “She’s awesome and she’s American and she likes Kanye West and-”

“What a girl, she sounds marvelous,” Conor rolls his eyes.

“She’s not like the other chics I’ve dated so it’s hard to describe her but she’s pretty,” King says smiling from cheek to cheek. “I’m throwing a party tomorrow just for her and all of you have to come!”

Ed asks, “Does she know who you are?”

“What?”

Ed sits up and prepares a list. “Does she know you have hit men on speed dial, a ranging alcoholic, you got kicked out of rehab three times, your basketball career is a joke, a chain smoker-”

“Oooh, those look good on the boyfriend credentials,” I coo.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” King says. “Don’t say anything to her at the party, okay?”

We all nod because quite frankly it’s been a while since King found someone who was, well not a stripper or a hooker or… wait, those are the same thing!

“Thank you Harry,” Nick screams coming into the room and hugging me tightly I lose my balance. We end up on the floor, my head hurting and Nick kissing me all over my face, including my lips.

“Maybe it’s Nick who needs a new partner in his life, not you King,” Ed shrugs.

“Please don’t kiss in front of me,” King says, heaving dramatically.

“You don’t understand guys,” Nick says, standing up. He was fanning his face, catching his breath and talking at the same time. “He got me a job with Radio 1 and I start next week!”

The lads hurdled around Nick, congratulating him and pulling me into the 4-man _bro_ hug. Hours later, I decided to head home after multiple calls from Liam saying that Louis was getting worried. _Why the bloody hell didn’t he call you then?_ my inner god wonders. Leave it, I sigh. I head out, with Conor seeing as he lives on the way to the apartment.

“Is this my car?” I ask. I didn’t see my Range Rover but instead there was a Batman car. Seriously, it really was a Batman car – the exact thing like in the movies.

“Sweet ride!” Conor says walking towards it. Maybe it was the cocaine talking or whatever, but looks like I was going to ride a sweet car home.

“I’m back,” I call as I enter the apartment. I see the lads sitting around pillows, snacks and sodas. _No booze?_

“Where were you, I was worried,” Louis says standing up and hugging me. He squeezed my waist tightly before letting go, smiling up at me. I returned the smile, feeling on cloud nine right now. He grabs my hand and leads me to sit near him, the sixteen eye balls following our every move. Holy shit, he’s still holding my hand! Did I die and go to heaven?

Zayn breaks the silence. “Uh, so where were you?”

“With Nick and the others,” I say, picking up a bowl of Oreo biscuits and feeling Louis tense near me.

“How is Lana?” Zayn asks smiling. “I bet she’s so cool, right?”

“She’s pretty cool I guess.” When is this conversation going to end?

 

***KNOCK KNOCK***

“Who’s that?” Niall asks.

“This again,” Louis sighs.

“What again?” Zayn asks. I stand up and head for the door as Louis explains what happened last time when King came with the entire London population to our apartment. I open the door and see three police officers, all grim and serious. One shoves something in my face saying something but all I can think of is that they’re arresting me for the murder of Ellie Goulding.

 _This is it Styles, face it up!_ my inner god hides underneath the bed.

“Harry Styles, you’re under arrest!” the one on the left announces. The other enters the door as the lads come to the door, my brain frozen at what’s going on as it’s happening to fast.

“What’s going on Harry?” Liam asks.

 _Nooooo I can’t go to jail,_ my inner good cries.

“Please step aside Mr Payne,” the police says as he pins my arms behind me, clipping the handcuffs.

“Why are you arresting him?” Niall asks.

 _Shit, you’re going to spend the rest of your life in jail,_ my inner god panics running around in circles.

“Please move aside Mr Malik,” he says. He pushes me and I walk forward. However Louis stops in front of me, ignoring the groans of the two men who were in front of me.

“Mr Tomlinson, move aside or we’ll arrest you as well for obstruction of justice.”

“Harry, what’s going on?” he asks, his hands behind my neck.

“I don’t know,” I shake my head, daring not to mention Ellie Goulding or anything. I shiver at the thought, going to jail for life! My mouth gets dry and feeling claustrophobic all of a sudden.

“Wait, you can’t arrest him without saying why,” Liam commands.

“He’s under arrest for driving under the influence,” the police officer says, obviously bored of his 9-5 job.

“It’s never that serious officer,” Niall says, laughing nervously. The police don’t budge and in fact add:

“And also for stealing a car.”

 _Shit, the Batman car!_ , my inner god slaps his forehead.

It’s not about Ellie, I smile. Thank heavens!

 _I can’t survive in jail anyway,_ my inner god sighs.

But I’m still going to jail, they could find shit about Ellie linking to me, I panic, overthinking again.

“I’ll set you free,” Louis whispers near my ear. My body weighs down on his, not caring how this looks right now but I do need Louis, here and now. He rests his forehead against mine, feeling his breath on the lips. _So close_. “They have nothing on you.”

“Actually we do,” the police officer holding my handcuffs.

He growls at the police office and looks back at me, “I love you Hazza.”

Breathing in his strawberry body wash that I bought for him, I say, “I love you too Boobear,” and meaning every word of it. It was gone by a sniff as I was dragged outside, where the paparazzis were camped, snapping their cameras at me being dragged into a police car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dancing quote that Caroline says is a pretty good one. The original sounds better though =P


	12. [Gods and Monsters]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Lana go on their first public date... and later.... Harry and Gemma get in a row over their mother....

_++_

 

_About hearts you’ve broken and ties that you’ve severed ~ **Drake** _

_++_

_ _

“What are you guys doing here?” Harry asks, holding two of his phones in his hand and his black sweater over his right shoulder.

Liam, Zayn, Niall and Louis drove quickly to Jalus London jail as soon as Harry was arrested. Of course the paparazzi blocked the entrance to the apartment so they couldn’t leave. Harry spent the whole night in prison, little banter here and there by the in mates [thankfully he wasn’t jail-raped], but finally, at 7:03PM, he was sent free. On bail of course.

“We’re here to bail you out duh,” Louis says, giving him a tight hug as the rest follow with light hugs. “Did you sleep alright?”

Niall laughs . “Did you get butt fucked?”

“No, Niall,” Harry rolls his eyes. “And you guys didn’t have to come.”

“Why not?” Zayn says, patting his best mate on the back. “We’re your best friends!”

“Because I’m here,” Ed announces as he enters the room, the sounds of people outside barging into the room suddenly. “Quite a crowd out there for you Harry!”

“It’s fine Ed, you can go home, we’re here to get him,” Liam says.

“Actually, I came to get him to go for a serious party he needs to go to,” Ed explains, Harry busy scrolling on his phone.

“What party?” Niall asks.

“Not one of Justin’s parties,” Harry says, knowing if he went to another one of Justin’s parties without Niall, the Irish lad would literally bury him alive.

Ed looks at Harry’s body from top to bottom and back to his unwashed hair. “And we need to stop by Mango because you look like shit Harry.”

“I do not,” he says but even he knew it was a lie.

“You actually do,” Louis agrees. “You dress like a homeless, gay person.” The other lads join in on the joke except for the two misfits in the room.

“What’s wrong with dressing like a gay person?” Harry asks, his lips in a straight line.

“Because you’re not gay so why dress like them?” Louis states, the rest of the band agreeing with him. Ed darted his eyes to Harry, watching his temper which if the past is anything to go by, could turn violent any time soon.

“What’s so bad about gay people?” Harry asks calmly, trying to keep his voice neutral in case he gave anything away.

“Everything!” Liam exclaims.

“They’re immoral,” Niall adds.

“Sinful in nature,” Zayn chips in. He was followed by Louis who also talked about homosexuality being something foreign in today’s world.

“Besides, two men kissing is disgusting!” Niall shook his head as if he was watching gay porn in front of him. “Ew gross!”

“It’s not your business what happens in the bedroom!” Ed raises his voice above the room. They all turn to him and they become very defensive, citing the immoral nature of two men kissing and of course Louis mentions Harry’s best friend.

“Nick is the reason why homosexuality should be banned in England!”

“I hear in Uganda it’s against the law to _be_ gay,” Liam says in a factoid voice.

“We should banish him there!” Zayn laughed at his own joke, the rest joining in.

In a low tone, the closeted gay one says, “You’re a hypocrite.”

“How is he a hypocrite?” Louis asks the gay one.

“Yeah, how am I a hypocrite?” Zayn asked.

“You’re a Christian, so do you follow all the 10 Commandments?”

“There’s no such thing as a perfect Christian,” Louis speaks up before Zayn could.

“It also says in Romans 13:13 that you shouldn’t be drunk and yet you go out every Saturday with Perrie and drink yourself silly,” Harry says, surprising himself he remembers passages in the Bible.

“He reads the Bible?” Niall whispers, more to himself than the group.

“It also says in the same verse no immorality and I’m pretty sure homosexuality falls in that category because in you won’t enter the Kingdom of God,” Zayn says, also quoting the Bible.

“How do you know that?” Ed asks.

Zayn rolls his eyes and the answer rolls off his tongue without an effort. “Revelations 21:8.”

“Well it’s a good thing I’m an atheist then.”

“It doesn’t matter, we’re all judged the same,” Zayn says.

“Then stop fucking judging homosexuals for their sins when you have a log in your eye yet your search for specks in others,” Harry says, quickly searching for the passage. "Luke 6:41."

“Why are you defending those people anyway?” Liam asks, eyeing Harry suspiciously.

Harry stood there baffled at the question. He wasn’t prepared for this, he already had Bible quotes lined up nicely in his head but this question was out of the blue. It’s not that he didn’t want to defend them it’s just that it would probably involve him somewhat coming out of the closet and these are the last people he would come out to… or probably in a jail.

Ed saves the day by suggesting that they leave. “C’mon Harry, we’ve got shopping to do and a party to go to.”

“Hey, listen, we were just joking,” Liam says, trying to ease the tension in the police corridor. “Let’s all go home and watch the season finale of _Pretty Little Liars_.”

“Isn’t that too gay for you?” Harry asks threateningly.

“No it’s not, the girls there are smoking hot,” Zayn shakes his head.

“Especially that blond one,” Niall smiles, blushing a little.

Liam tries to convince Harry to stay. “So what do you say to a night of admiring hot girls getting scary texts from a perverted man? Not forgetting Niall secretly masturbating to Hanna.”

“I do not masturbate to her,” Niall grumps.

“You do too,” Louis laughs.

“I’ve already watched it,” Harry says forcefully, stomping off with Ed, leaving his band members clueless.

 

*****

 

“Here’s to great future dates ahead,” Lana says, clinking her wine glass with Harry’s.

After last night, Harry did not step foot at his and Louis’ apartment because he knew _he_ would ask him the same question Liam asked about defending homosexuals. Whenever the subject about gayism, or just gay, came up, he would tense up: his mind would stop running, his palms would become sweaty, his shoulders would barely move, his mouth would be as dry as the Sahara desert and generally, he would feel like the entire world was judging him at that point, guns and arrows pointing at him relentlessly and most of all his inner god would scream _oh my gosh! you’re gay and they’re onto you!_

That aside, he had a reputation to uphold: do not show the gay, do not speak about the gay, and above all do not do anything that would make one suspect he was, in fact, gay. Absolutely not! Guess last night his third rule was broken since he defended the gays. Or let’s say his ‘people’. But what choice did he have when his band mates were attacking them right, left and center?

He takes a sip of his red wine, marimba ringing through the air.

“Who’s that relentlessly calling you?” Lana asks, taking a bite of her _hors d’œuvre_.

“It’s Modest! calling,” he says ignoring the call and switching off his phone.

“Why?”

“I haven’t written anything for our upcoming album and it’s being released in 2 months,” he says, winking at her. “Now they keep calling me telling me to hand in my songs yet I have nothing written.”

“You should write something,” she says. “I can help you.”

“I don’t think you can,” he says, Lana sensing that he was talking about something more than just the unwritten songs. But because ‘worrying’ about Harry wasn’t in the “dating Harry Styles publicly” description she drops the issue.

“What have you been up to recently?” she asks.

“I was in jail yesterday,” he shrugs, taking out a cigarette.

“Oh yeah it was all over _E!_ news. Why?”

“Drunk driving,” he smiles proudly. “And for stealing a Batman car.”

“I’m not even going to ask,” she says and the conversation between them pops dead to the ground like a balloon. They eat their main course in silence as well apart from the occasional comment about how terrible the 300 sterling pound chicken is or how the wine is not strong enough (this was Harry).

“Why did you agree to date me?” Harry asks over dessert. He points the packet towards Lana but she shakes her head, something about lung cancer.

“I need the attention for my new album _Born to Die_ coming out in 2 weeks,” she says, slowly licking off the cream on her spoon. Was she flirting with Harry? Or was the wine finally taking effect?

“But you can do fine on your own.”

“People like me don’t do as well as you guys because we sing serious songs no offense,” she says. “I make albums Harry, all you do is make singles, that burn, then you make another, they burn out and you replace it with an even catchier song than the one before. How long before you burn out?”

“We sell platinum albums and we break records that have never been broken. We win every single award we’re nominated for like MTV, AMA, WMB, EMA, OTJ, HGJEs, IWO Awards, LPD, NVD, IEWH, and we closed the Olympics last year which was wicked. We’re even constantly being compared to the Beatles success because there’s no artist doing as well as we are in this century or basically after the Beatles. Besides, I’ve worn Villain of the Year twice!”

“With your current reputation, that award isn’t a joke right now,” she says.

“S’pose not,” he shrugs, blowing out smoke.

“Are you ever going to stop smoking?” she asks.

“Did you?”

“I don’t smoke cigarettes,” she says. “I stopped though when I was 17.”

“Good for you,” Harry shrugs, butting his cigarette on the side of dessert plate.

“Anyway, those songs mean nothing to you. Forget being cool like One Direction tries to be, I try to be honest in my songs. I sing from the heart, I try to put my all into the songs I sing, I am sad, I am honest, vulnerable, passionate and all that but what about you Harry, do the songs you sing about even take a part of your soul?”

“Yes, _Moments_.”

“You pick the one song that you didn’t even write,” she says, shaking her head.

“ _What Makes You Beautiful_ was profound.”

“Who are you kidding?” she asks but Harry digs into his cake, the fork hitting the crystal plate hard.

She continues. “Sure but when people listen to that song they don’t even listen to the lyrics, they just listen to the beats, the words and then before you know it they’ve moved on from that song and they’re waiting for the next single from the world’s biggest boy band. Do you ever wonder why after releasing the song _Gotta Be You_ it didn’t do as well as _What Makes You Beautiful_?”

He did think about it, that year when the song was released. The chart numbers weren’t as good as when their hit single _What Makes You Beautiful_ was released, the downloads weren’t as much, in fact for a moment, One Direction was disappearing. That was a reality check for Harry; it was also his low point. He realized how quick his dreams could disappear so fast it would seem like being in a cool boy band like One Direction was a dream, something that never happened, and something surreal that passed by so quick. It was then that Louis, as the group leader, decided that they should release their last single from their Up All Night album, _One Thing_ to save them from extinction.

Suddenly he was very intrigued by the woman before him, questioning why he was gay because damn, he wanted to bang her against the kitchen counter listening to _Cola_. He closes his eyes and tries to focus on the conversation because dammit, he is playing for the same team as her. “Yes but I didn’t get why.”

“You scared people because _Gotta Be You_ is very different from the other song you sang. People want catchy songs from you because, well, it’s One Direction they want not me or Miguel. But there’s a danger Harry, there’s grave danger in this.”

“What?”

“You’ll burn very quickly. You’ll burn and disappear so fast no one will remember you 6 or 7 years from now. The only people who’ll remember you are your fans but c’mon, your fans aren’t just your audience right?”

“We are trying to reach a larger audience with our next album Midnight Memories. We did actually discuss singing songs more of your speed but it’s quite hard adjusting from _Live While We’re Young_ to say _Born to Die_ ,” he says, suddenly ashamed he forgot the songs from his last album.

“That’s why I offered to help you earlier but you seemed disinterested,” she says, finishing her last bite of dessert.

“More?” Harry asks.

“More what?”

He points with his fourth cigarette of the night. “Dessert!”

“I’m not sleeping with you, not on the second date anyway,” she says.

If only she knew, Harry smiles to himself. “No, I’m enjoying this conversation so let’s order more, it’s on me.”

“Fine,” she says.

“And I wasn’t planning on sleeping with you tonight,” he says, the waiter coming to their table. They order a black forest cake for dessert with more wine.

“There was another reason why I agreed to this date,” she confesses. “I’ve been watching you over these few months and you’ve completely changed. You have this bad boy reputation that is very hard to get through it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re untouchable Harry,” she says exasperated that he wasn’t catching on.” You’re worse than Justin Bieber. One day you’re leaving a burlesque club at 2AM, the next you’re seen entering another at 5AM, then at 11AM you’re eating breakfast with some black dude who looks like your bodyguard-”

“That’s King,” he says. “It’s a ritual really. We have breakfast every single day at 11 apart from weekends.”

“That’s odd,” she says and her date shrugs. “The whole afternoon you’re usually unnoticed unless you do something big like going for fashions shows, recklessly driving and thank goodness they finally caught you because it was getting scary. Around late afternoon you’re busy buying booze, crates of it to be exact-”

“That was just yesterday,” he says. “King was having a party for his girlfriend so Ed and I went to buy drinks.”

“And how about the thing in your pocket?”

“What?”

“You were already high from the drugs you snorted and you had more in your pocket,” she says. “And condoms.”

“How did you know?” he asks, surprised she knows.

“I used to be like you Harry,” she says, her eyes downcast and looking left. Shame, Harry thinks immediately. He knew this because c’mon, a pathological liar can see lies that not even lie experts can spot. Harry certainly gives _Lie to Me_ a run for their money. But no matter, the question here is why does she feel shame?

Suddenly interested, he leans forward on the table. “What did you do?”

“I slept around all the time thinking that I would be famous like all the other artists but all I got was rejection and STDs.”

“You got STDs?”

“Yeah, I have chlamydia.” There it was again, Harry notices, she was showing signs of shame.

“I have gonorrhea.”

His eyes flew open at the sudden confession, surprised how it rolled off easily. Lana caught on that this was a forbidden secret that Harry wasn’t meant to spill out. Guess the wine was working perfectly for her advantage.

“How did you get it?”

“I’m still trying to figure it out,” Harry says, remembering he was also HIV positive. He went to his doctor the next day for a second check-up to confirm the results. He did have gonorrhea and thankfully it was in the primary stage so he could get cured. As for HIV, the doctor said he contracted HIV2, the more dangerous HIV of the two but to be safe he was told to come for a second testing after 6 months. Usually when one gets HIV tested, the results could come out positive when one is negative or negative when one is positive. He didn’t hear the rest of what she was saying apart from, “Come in 6 months’ time for another test.” or in 4 months now.

“I got chlamydia from a blowjob from some guy in a bar,” Lana says casually but still full of shame.

“You can get cured from chlamydia just like gonorrhea,” Harry says. She bites her lips nervously, looking to her left. She’s about to confess how she got chlamydia, Harry thinks.

“I noticed it when it was too late.” 10 points to Harry for guessing correctly, he smirks. “But I am taking vaccines to control it as well as creams to hide the rushes on my face,” she says pointing to a clear spot on her face. “You can’t see it because I’ve put the cream.”

“That guy was a jerk for not telling you.”

“But you can change Harry. You don’t have to be this guy. Why are you this guy?”

“Everybody loves a rebel.”

“Are you trying to be the next Justin? Or worse, those black rappers?”

“No, but that’s a good way to go,” he says. “It’s also white rappers too.”

“Eminem and Robin Thicke doesn’t count.”

“Thicke’s a rapper?”

“Think so,” she says, her eyes not leaving the cake.

“So you dated me because you were like me?” Harry asks.

Forcefully, she says without looking at him. “Yes.”

“I could help you,” he says. “I could help you get people to buy your music, to break records and all that because we were told the secrets.”

“Really, what’s the first?”

“Make more videos,” he says, attacking Lana directly. Despite Lana selling lots of music, being platinum for her singles _Born to Die_ and _Summertime Sadness_ , she rarely made music videos. Actually, she only has one, _Born to Die_ from her first album Born to Die.

She frowns. “They’re expensive.”

“I’ll pay for your next music video,” Harry offers. “Whatever the cost, I’ll cover it.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’re very talented Lana and I’m not just saying this because I’m a guy who probably wants to sleep with you,” he says. That part was true, he did want to sleep with her because hot damn, Lana was fucking hot in her red lipstick but he wouldn’t because he’d be disgusted the moment she took off all her clothes. “People deserve to listen to you because your songs are very profound and I can hear your soul through the music when it plays. You were right about One Direction, we don’t make albums, we make singles that go to number one on a billion and one charts yet your songs don’t. Not even one. Your music is a body of work. Nowadays when people listen to songs, they don’t listen to just the music playing or the instruments in the back, they listen based on who the artist is.”

“That’s the reason I don’t make music videos; people will only listen to me because I have a hot body,” she says, stabbing her fork into her dessert. “People are so brainwashed by what their idols or artists do that it affects how you listen to their music. Look at Malore, he’s slowly dropping off the billboards because he cheated on his wife and he’s been doing well for a long time until now. “

“Look at me though, I became a rebel and the sales from our last album shot through the roof,” Harry says. “Or billboards in this case.”

“You’re cute,” she shrugs.

“Anyway, in this world and age, we have to keep up with the times, something Simon told us. Music videos help promote your music and your videos have to be so wicked otherwise they could destroy your song, irrelevant if it was the best song off your album or your favorite of all time, if the music video sucks, the entire thing will come tumbling down. So here’s what I’m saying, make a music video which I’ll gladly pay for and see yourself rise in the music industry.”

“Better than Rihanna?” she asks timidly.

“Better than Rihanna, Lady Gaga and all those basic artists trying to sing.”

Lana wiped her cheek quickly. “You’ll do all this for me?”

“Yes of course,” Harry smiles genuinely. Not the paparazzi smiles, not the fake smiles he gives his band mates, not the ones he has on the phone with his friends. NO, this was genuine and he felt his heart grow and grow fondly for Lana.

“Why?”

“Because everybody deserves a second change in life even if the second chance is the fifth time,” he says. Lana looks at him quizzically then gasps. “Yes, I know about your album Born to Die and how you had to go through so many labels because they either didn’t like your tune, they didn’t understand your personality, they didn’t get your voice which I also don’t get.”

“I got signed by Doe Records.”

“You were blackmailed,” Harry says, surprising Lana with everything off his mouth. Had he really stalked her this much? “And to be honest, you scared me when you pulled through and left Doe Records. You continued to sing the same songs and finally you found a record label that loved you for you.”

“Capitol Records are amazing, they really are.”

“But it’s not enough. You need to be the best because bigger is better and better is bigger,” he says, smiling by quoting a _High School Musical_ song. Oh the shame.

“You believe in me?”

“Yes I do and I believe we should be heading home,” Harry says, giving the waiter his credit card.

“What song should I make a music video for?”

“That’s your choice love,” he responds.

“I’m serious Harry, choose a song, I want this to be for you,” she says forcefully. Harry thinks hard about which song Lana should make a music video out of. Well that’s a lie, he was thinking of what songs were on her album which he could only think of _Born to Die_ and _National Anthem_ but that’s it. And then he had it! The light bulb moment.

“Video games!”

“That’s the one I would’ve have picked,” she glees, giggling like a 10 year old. “I’m so excited you have no idea. I want to start the music video right this second but I probably should sleep first, right?”

“I would start now too but I need to be the sensible between the two of us and say yes, go to sleep then early tomorrow go to Capitol,” he advises.

“Why would you do this? I’m not your real girlfriend; I’m using you for your fame-”

“I know you wouldn’t believe me right now but I’m using you as well,” Harry confesses. Lana on the other hand doesn’t sense the sincere depth of that statement [I mean, she was a beard for him] as she continues her excitement ranting to Harry all the way to her blue doorstep with the _Home is Here_ mat on it.

“I had a wonderful time Harry,” she says holding her clutch bag.

“Ditto,” he smiles.

“Do you want to come up for coffee?” she asks hesitantly. Is she asking him for sex?

“No, I have to go write some songs for my album. Don’t want them to get mad any longer,” Harry says, thinking how many phone calls he has from Modest! and probably two from Liam and a text from Niall wondering why his phone is off. But there was a party he wanted to go to with Nick…

“Sorry about the paparazzi too,” she apologizes.

“It was part of the plan,” he shrugs. He gently lifts her head with his index finger so her hazel eyes are looking up at him. “But I had a fantastic time with you.”

“I know your type Harry,” she says, lowering her eye lids. “You take a girl out on a date and make her feel special. Then you go up and fuck her brains out and the next day you’re out of her life soon before it even happened.”

“That does sound like me,” he says not offended by her statement. He’d gotten used to the ‘bad boy’ and ‘womanizer’ labels that whatever people labeled him didn’t matter, just as long as it wasn’t the ‘good’ image he had a few months ago.

“Goodnight then,” she says.

“No goodnight kiss, love?”

“Maybe,” she says. She hesitates, biting her lip and then pulls Harry’s blazer with her fisted fingers and kisses his rose shaded lips. “Sleep tight.”

“Can’t wait to see you next week for our lunch date.”

 

*****

 

“I don’t know what I’ve done,” Harry cries on the phone to Gemma at 2AM.

He had come home, hours after he said goodbye to Lana and… he couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t insomnia or whatever scientists and doctors called it, it wasn’t the fact that Louis was sleeping in the next room but it could be because of the nine pills he just gulped down.

_What?_

“I don’t know what I’ve done,” he repeats, his voice cracking between those sentences.

_Harry, are you okay? Why are you crying?_

“I didn’t mean to sleep with her,” he says, sniffing back disgusting mucus.

_Is this Lana? The new girl you’re dating?_

“Yes.”

_Tell me what happened._

“She asked if I wanted coffee right?” he explains. “But with all my strength I said no.”

_Here I thought you were gay…_

Ignoring her comment, he continues. “But her kisses, good heavens help me! Her kisses are sensational, they’re literally sex without the sex part. So next thing I know she was opening the door to her place and she led me up stairs and we… we-”

_Harry, did she rape you?_

“No, no she didn’t,” he says, understanding why his sister was asking. “I wasn’t meant to sleep with her, she has chlamydia.”

_Harry Styles!_

“It’s fine really, we used a condom,” he says.

_You called to tell me you had sex your girlfriend? I keep telling you you’re not gay but you don’t listen._

Yep, he hadn’t told his sister that Lana and him were not actually dating. The one person in his family he trusts so much and he could not tell her. Mainly because to convince people that what Hana (Harry + Lana) were doing isn’t for publicity but real. Modest! instructed him to not tell anyone or else the whole plan would fail. He broke the rule the second he was warned as he blurted to King, Nick, Ed and Conor the second he met them.

“I had sex with Nick 2 days ago so I’m pretty sure I’m gay.”

_You have sex with anyone and quite frankly I’ll be surprised you haven’t gotten anything from all those men and women you sleep with._

I did get something, I got gonorrhea! Harry screams in his head but he remains quiet, not wanting to worry his sister about his life because trust you me, she would leave whatever she was doing and drive to his apartment, missing death and speeding tickets by a whisker.

“Funny,” he mums.

_So you just left her after having sex with her?_

“Yes,” he says, fresh tears soiling his face. “You should’ve seen her Gem. At dinner she told me this story about how guys usually have sex with her and leave immediately after and she ends up feeling cheap and a whore-”

_Harry Styles how could you! How could you do the exact same thing to this poor woman!_

“I don’t know,” he confesses. “I just left her. She begged me not to leave as I was wearing my clothes. I locked her in the bathroom so she wouldn’t follow me.”

_What the actual hell HARRY?!_

“I know I know, I messed up bad this time,” he says.

_You left her locked up?_

“Yes but she can get out. Some guy did the same thing to her, the one who gave her chlamydia.” He hears her sister sighing on the phone before speaking again.

_Harry, why did you really call me?_

“I think I’m going crazy,” he says plainly.

_With all those pills you take, you might be._

“I’m serious Gem.”

_You’re not insane Harry. You’re just acting out because you can’t come out of the closet and so you’re putting that frustration into other things like locking women in the bathroom after sex._

“Like murder?”

_You didn’t actually kill Ellie Goulding. You weren’t the hit man! Or are you not telling me something?_

“No, I didn’t kill her but I took part in her death and there’s a 50-50 percent chance they could link it back to me,” Harry says, for the first time seeing the serious side of that day when they were planning on killing Ellie Goulding. _Killing_!

_I shouldn’t be saying this but you didn’t kill her so it’s fine_. _You could go for her funeral if you feel guilty._

“No that would bring a lot of suspicion,” Harry shakes his head, rubbing his bottom lip with his fingers. “Like why am I attending my friend’s girlfriend’s funeral and not the boyfriend or like-”

_Like you visiting Caroline? Yes, I saw the news._

“We’re not dating, Gemma.”

_But why are you visiting her? Did you forget what she_ did _to you? She ruined you Harry, she completely ruined you and it angers me every day that_ –she says it with bitterness – _woman_ _is still walking freely when she should be locked up for eternity for what she did to you._

“Calm down Gemma,” he says thankful his sister can’t see him rolling his eyes. He forgave Caroline for what she did to him, so why couldn’t everyone else? Even King wanted to slit her throat when vulnerable Harry confessed to what Caroline had done to him. It took all of his energy to stop him rushing to her house at 1AM and stabbing her 78 times. Yes, King actually said he would, “Stab that cougar bitch 78 times.” Of course he didn’t tell his band mates because this would blow up to exaggerated proportions than it looked like.

_Don’t tell me to calm down_ –is she crying?- _I should have been there to keep you safe, I should have done something for you but I was helpless. And now when I see her on TV, a free woman, moving on with her life as she pleases without a care about what she did to you…_

“Gemma listen, I forgave Caroline for what she did a long time ago. Now all of you need to do the same,” Harry says, soothing his sister.

_You know people who’ve gone what you go through often have a hard time opening up because they have a link to their attacker._

“What?”

_I major Psychology and minor in Physical Mechanics, in case you forgot._

“Maybe you should fix this family,” Harry says, a tinge of seriousness in it that Gemma wouldn’t have picked on.

_Is Lana treating you right?_

“Yeah, she’s great,” he says. Thankfully she dropped the Caroline issue. “But she’s going to hate my guts soon.”

_Why would she hate you? You only locked her up in her bathroom for the only night._

“I’m the monster probably gave her HIV,” he says, ignoring her sarcasm.

_You’re HIV positive? Oh my gosh Harry, I can’t even right now!_

“That doesn’t make sense and I can’t believe you’re turning into a typical white girl.”

_What the hell?! How are you positive?_

“I don’t know,” Harry confesses. It could be anyone who gave him the virus… anyone! “But the doctor said that there’s a window period where one can be positive but in fact they’re negative so I’m going in the next 4 months to be checked again.”

_So there’s a change you’re negative?_

“Yes but I could be positive too.”

_And you had sex with her knowing full well she could get infected, maybe you are a monster!_

Hearing those words from her sister did crash him. His sister! If his sister thinks he’s gone crazy then surely he is a crazy monster. See, it didn’t matter if his mom thought he was crazy because she did, it didn’t matter if his band mates thought he was bat shit crazy because they did, it didn’t matter if his closest friends thought he was crazy because they already were and most certainly didn’t matter if his therapist thought he was crazy because she was crazy about him. But if Gemma did think he was crazy then yes, he is.

_Harry I didn’t mean that, it just came out._

“So you think I’m a monster?” he asks, his voice low.

_We’re all a little crazy Harry and quite frankly it’s good that we’re a tad nuts because it shows we’re alive. We’re living life like we should. You’re not crazy because you take pills like they’re tic tacs, or because you smoke drugs more than a drug addict in Mexico or drugs that are illegal there, it doesn’t matter because these are signs that you’re normal._

“Participating in a murder?”

_There’re some things that make me question you’re insanity, yes. I know what am about to say will offend you but yes Harry, recently I’m starting to think you are going insane. You took part in a murder and you still don’t feel guilty about killing an innocent person’s life. She didn’t deserve to die._

“She wrongly accused Ed of cheating!”

_Fuck that! Louis was right, you don’t kill people because they cheated on you. It’s really sad that you pushed Louis away from your life because he can kill the poison in your life._

At this point he knew who Gemma was referring to and if it was anybody else on the phone he would have hung up. But not Gemma. His sister could pull him out of his poisonous life, even just for a fresh breath because it was small ounces of fresh breath that kicked his arse back to reality, back to the present. Unfortunately, the ounces of fresh breath were becoming weak against the poison.

“He’s the poison.”

_He’s the only one who can kill the poison, not Nick and those guys._

“Leave my friends out of this,” he growls against the speaker. “You hear me Gemma, leave them out of this!”

_Haz, you know I care about you and only wish the best for you but fame has changed you. I don’t even know you sometimes. The Harry I knew was cheeky, funny, and liked the simple things in life. And would never leave his family behind no matter how big and famous he got!_

“That’s not who I am anymore Gem, I’m sick and tired of being what people labeled me as, I needed to become more of myself,” Harry explains for the umpteenth time.

_No Harry, this is who you are. It’s the celebrity life that’s changed you._

“This is who I am,” he says with stern. Why were people constantly trying to change him? More importantly why were people trying to define him?

_You fucking left your family behind!_

His cool explodes and he shouts through the phone. “As long as that bitch of a woman you call your mother is living in Holmes Chapel, I will never return home. Never!”

_She didn’t kill our father, Harry. Get it out of your head._

“She did,” he screams, hearing a bed shift in the other room. Oh crap, Louis is asleep in the next room! “She killed him and you know it. He was happy before his new husband came into the picture, he was less happy when she asked for a divorce, he was miserable when the divorce won and he lost custody of us because she was a selfish bitch, he became angry when Georgia ran away from her house and she didn’t know where she went, you left immediately after-“

_And you fucking ran away._

Louis knocks on the door at this point, entering the room with worry. He stops to see Harry, his hair violent, tears in his eyes, his knuckles white against the black iPhone and shouting like a mad man.

“I came back when the doctors said he was in the hospital,” he screams as loud as he can. “I was there every single fucking day for 3 weeks by his bedside and not once did your bloody mother come to visit. But ironic isn’t it-”

_Harry don’t-_

“Ironic isn’t it that the only day she decides to visit, he dies. He dies,” he chokes on the last words, memories of his father hitting him all at once.

_We’ll never know what happened at the hospital but our mother-_

“She’s not my fucking mother,” he howls and throws the phone against the white backdrop. Louis flinches still standing at the door. He looks at Harry not sure if he should just leave or comfort his best friend. Seeing his angry best friend, which was all the time nowadays, he stayed clear of him in case he was almost punched like last time when it almost happened. His body shivers at the thought.

“I miss him so much,” Harry weeps, falling his head against his white pillow. The tears stain it almost immediately. Louis rushes to his side, climbing on his bed and pulling him to his lap. He rocks him gently, one arm around his waist pulling him closer the other drawing small circles against his back.

“Your dad?” He nods against his head, the tears wetting his _Superman_ night shirt. “I miss him Louis.”

“I know,” he says. He rocks Harry, occasionally kissing his forehead, and slowly after what seems like hours, Harry stops crying.

“Lay your head and try to get some sleep,” Louis says, his voice light. Harry nods and Louis lays him gently on the bed, pulling the covers for him to stretch his leg. He makes sure Harry lays his aching head on the dry pillow. “You’re going to be fine in the morning.”

Shifting in his bed he turns to look up at Louis whose back was against the board. “Gemma hates me.”

“No she doesn’t. She loves you Harry,” he says, Harry’s eyes glistening against the moonlight through the curtains. He wipes a tear off his cheek before it reaches his jaw. “She loves you Hazza.”

“Stay with me,” he says but it comes out more of a plead. Louis looks at his best mate wondering if he should. “Please.”

“Sure,” he agrees. They used to sleep together all the time before the whole Larry Stylinson fiasco.

So why was it different _now_?

“She hates me,” Harry weeps, fresh tears wetting his face. Louis slips down to the bed so his body is parallel to the young boy. He wraps his arms around his shaking body, the tears wetting his shirt again.

“Gemma would never hate you,” Louis soothes, his grip tightening around the Cheshire lad.

“I screamed at her,” he says, most of his words muffled by talking directly to Louis’ warm chest. “After I screamed at my older sister for not visiting my dad, Gemma looked at me with scared eyes and she became scared of me. Until that day I vowed to never treat her like I did to Georgia but tonight” –his words muffled by new tears – “tonight I broke that promise and screamed at her.”

Three years and seven months later, Louis wonders, and he still doesn’t know much about his best friend. Who was Georgia? He swears he’s never heard anything about a Georgia, only a Gemma. But who cares about minor details when he finally learned about Harry’s dad; he was dead and it seems for a long time now and apparently so was his mother to him. Anne ,was it? All this anger towards his family and for what? What happened in his family that they called each other by their names instead of the usual “Mom” or “Dad”. Louis would never dream of calling his mother Johannah, it was always Mom. Heck, he even called his step-dad, Darkin, “Dad” because he was like a Dad to him despite not being his biological father.

“That’s the funny thing about family, you fight with each other but in the end, you always find a way to forgive each other,” Louis says, drawing circles on Harry’s back. He could see Harry’s mouth twitching in a smile so he continued. “There was this one time my sister Lottie stole my bike without asking. I asked my mom where my bike was but she didn’t know so I sat outside the porch for hours waiting for her to come back. Did you know what happened?”

Harry shook his head, gazing at Louis’ eyes like a tiny kitten in a basket. He held tightly onto Louis’ shirt in his tiny firsts, exposing his chest tattoo a little bit.

“She broke it!” Louis says dramatically, Harry chuckling. “I swear I wanted to kill her there and then but then she started crying and bawling saying that these mean girls were running after because you know how vicious mean girls are, right? So she rode as fast as she could home and those bullies got to her and they bullied her, crushing my sweet bike. I immediately marched straight away to their houses.”

“What did you do?” Harry asks, blinking his wet eyelashes.

“I crashed them of course,” Louis smiles cheekily.

“Really?”

“No actually, I didn’t,” he says as if disappointed he didn’t crush the mean girls’ bones. “My sister was pleading that I don’t crush them or else they would taunt her for days so instead we went and got ice-cream and you know what I learnt?”

Harry shakes his head silently underneath his warmth.

“I realized that no matter how much I hate my sister, no matter how cheesy it seems I would do anything for her, absolutely anything,” he says. He then looks intently at Harry. “It doesn’t matter if we’re arguing about something serious or trivial, I would do anything for her in a heartbeat even though in a heartbeat I felt like killing her because she crushed my bike.”

“You think that’s Gemma?”

“Yes, I believe if you call Gemma right this second asking her for help she would help you despite what’s going on between you. Why?” he asks, more to himself but Harry nevertheless remains quiet. “Because she loves you and she always will, don’t ever forget that.”

Harry cuddles closer to Louis, his head near Louis’ neck, soft breathes hitting Louis’ pulsating aorta veins.

“Do you think I’m a monster?” he asks oh so softly Louis may have missed it if he wasn’t listening

“No.”

“Do you hate me?”

With all his strength he pulls Harry onto his pillow so that his curls don’t stay wet the while night. He pulls the covers over their body, resting it gently on Harry’s shoulders. He could hear the younger lad’s breath hot against his neck the moment his hand shifted back softly on the dimples above his spine. Oh? the Doncaster chap wonders. Harry’s grip on the older boy’s shirt tightens, revealing more of his chest tattoo.

“Nothing you say or do would ever make me hate you,” he murmurs softly against Harry’s curls, feeling Harry tangle his legs between his, sinfully under the white sheets.

“Good night Lou,” he responds, heavy with sorrow. “I love you.”

“I love you too Hazza,” he says, closing his eyes. “Goodnight.”

 

Yes, why was it so different _now_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW! This was an intense chapter for me to write. I sincerely hope H and G don't fight this bad.


	13. [Uncover]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr X returns.

 

_++_

_And flip your entire position ~ **B.O.B** _

_++_

_ _

 

“C’mon Styles, think of something to write,” I say out loud to myself.

It was time I got serious with my work. After my breakdown two days ago and Louis literally spending every waking minute with me, I decided to finally write songs for our upcoming album Midnight Memories, out in almost two months. Holy crap!

To say that I couldn’t think straight [ _you aren’t straight,_ my inner god interrupts my thoughts] [stop interrupting me, I shush him], my heart was on a constant beat it seemed like I’ve been running for years, popping my white pills to calm my nerves that it was border lining an overdose was an understatement. I don’t think I’ve spent this much time with him after the whole Larry Stylinson fiasco and so you can imagine, all the touching, the sweet nothings he kept telling me, feeding each other Chinese and accidentally spilling chilli sauce on his shirt, watching _Titanic_ and _Forrest Gump_ for an entire afternoon after making milkshakes, sleeping together at night in our boxers…

 _Calm down Harry,_ my inner god says.

“You don’t know what it feels like when your friggin crush decides to spend time with you and not once, not once did he talk about Elewhore,” I say and stupidly enough realize I’m talking to myself. Why do I do this?

 _Because you’re an idiot_ , my inner god shakes his head.

Nothing good lasts forever, obviously! Right now Louis wasn’t here at home with me but he went to see Elewhore as she was on mid-term and it was the only time they could see each other which I thought was bullshit because they’re always together! But who am I to complain after having Louis for two whole days to myself? **TWO?**

So, what to write for my new song? I wonder. Writing songs was not a problem for me because I was in a band before One Direction called…

 _You forgot your own band name?_ my inner god questions.

Of course I do remember, I just forgot the way the letters of the band were arranged!

 _White Eskimo,_ my inner god reminds me the band I used to be in.

Anyway, like I was saying, I was in a band before so writing songs was easy. Except I wanted to write something meaningful and not just words that went well with the beats of the songs. I wanted to write lyrics that would speak to somebody, lyrics that would, even if it was just one person, would pull them out of their misery even if it was for 3 minutes and 27 seconds, basically a song that spoke to the soul not just the mind. Wow, looks like the dinner talk with Lana really influenced me.

 _Maybe hiding in Louis’ closet will help_ , my inner god suggests.

Since Louis was in Manchester and he won’t be back until tomorrow, I decided to camp in his room for the entire day and night. I checked his closet and wore his red pants, stripped shirt and dark blue beanie. I couldn’t find his signature suspenders but who cares? I had Louis all over me. I grabbed my Apple laptop and a Jaggertone, sat on his closets in his closet and shut myself from the world.

“I can’t do this, all I think about is Louis after two minutes,” I groan. It’s true, just as about to write the chorus of the song I’m writing [yes, I’ve actually written something! Me, Harry the procrastinator, has written something!] my mind wanders to the Tuesday morning when I woke up, Louis head on my chest, his breathing even with mine. I ran my fingers through his hair, admiring his tiny cute nose, his thin rosy lips, they way his eyebrows were furrowed when sleeping and the drool that was on my chest but I didn’t care, Louis fucking Tomlinson was sleeping with _me_!!

 _You should probably go on Youtube for inspiration_ , my inner god suggests. I was one step ahead of him as I opened Google Chrome. _Or watch one of Lana del Ray’s videos._

“She only has one,” I say and slap myself for the third time for talking to myself out loud. But nevertheless he did have a point, I could listen to Lana’s music to get inspiration for the song I was writing.

The song I’m writing, _I want you here with me_ , is about Louis and wanting more than just being friends, I want to be the one he holds at night, I don’t want to imagine what it’d be like, I want to be with him like I pictured it in my head all cuddling, walking down the streets of London boldly holding hands, Modest! accepting our relationship…

 _That’s a perfect world that doesn’t exist_ , my inner god says.

Great, such encouragement, really! I snort.

But he is right, if Modest! doesn’t want me to come out how the hell will they accept Louis’ and I being in a relationship? Or worse, realizing that Larry Stylinson was real the entire time?

I look back at what I’ve written and it’s just a bunch of lines:

 _I want you here with me_  
Like how I pictured it  
So I don't have to keep imagining

_Come on, jump out at me_  
Come on, bring everything  
Is it too much to ask for something great?

_I want you here with me_  
Like how I pictured it  
Is it too much to ask for something great?

_You're all I want_  
So much it's hurting  
  


See, just a bunch of lines! Maybe I should change the title of the song? Yeah, let me name it _Something Great_ because Louis would be something great to have but I can’t have him like how I picture it every night before I go to sleep.

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_Lana Del Ray album born to die._

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**Email:** harrybigdickstyles@yahoo.co.uk

 **Password** : **************

 

 _How are you ever going to work with all those tabs open?_ my inner god asks.

Oh I forgot, Skype! I smirk at him, clicking on the shortcut icon on my desktop.

I click on the link and login seeing no one is online but seconds later I get a notification from Liam Skyping with me.

 

 **Batman Payno:** Heyyyyyy Harrrrrrrry!

 

 **Edward Cullen:** Hey Payno!!!!! :D

 

 **Batman Payno:** Still sticking to Edward Cullen I see!

 

 **Edward Cullen:** You have Batman as your name.

 

 **Batman Payno:** It’s betttter than the glittery man!

 

 **Edward Cullen** : No one will ever find me on Skype and besides, my real name is Edward. What’s up? :D

 

 **Batman Payno:** Nothing much… just chillin. Niall was meant to come over but he had friends over for BBQ.

 

 **Edward Cullen:** what about Zayn?

 

 **Batman Payno:** Perrie as usual. I think he’s dumping us for HER.

Thiswas true. Since the whole Zayn having sex with the Australian blond girl who I later found out did actually happen [Zayn you Bradford Bad Boi, aye?] Perrie forgave him andever since he’s been trying to win her back because she didn’t completely forgive him. Like right now he asked her to move into his – ‘ours’ as he would correct us – that’s where he is. If you want to hang out with Zayn, go to his house.

 

 **Edward Cullen:** He has :(

 

 **Batman Payno:** Don’t feel bad you have Lana :)

 

 **Edward Cullen:** I guess :|

 

 **Batman Payno:** Thank you Harry for doing this for us...

 

 **Batman Payno:** and for her as well because you know she needs it. Her music career is almost at a standstill and you’re really helping her by paying for her next music video and promoting her too by dating her.

 

 **Edward Cullen:** I did that because I wanted to not because of our dating thing.

 

 **Batman Payno:** how is it though? Constantly in the media for dating all the women you’ve been set up with?

 

 **Batman Payno:** Must be exhausting :(

 

 **Edward Cullen:** it gets easier actually :) because you learn to detach yourself from them.

 

 **Batman Payno:** I have a feeling Lana is going to stick longer than Taylor Swift, Emily Ostilly, Cara somebody, Caroline Flack…

 

 **Edward Cullen:** Caroline and I were IN a relationship

 

 **Batman Payno:** Were you smoking meth then? She was a cougar who was using your innocence Hazza and after you dated her you became this porn star in bed ;)

 

 **Edward Cullen:** do you want some lessons for you and Sophia? She looks like the kinky girl..

 

 **Batman Payno:** HOLY SHITBALLS SHE IS KINKY AND SHE KNOWS STUFF DANIELLE AND I NEVER DID…

 

 **Edward Cullen:** I could give you the 101 on Sexxx games ;)

 

 **Batman Payno:** have youuuu heard the song? It’s pretty good.

 

 **Edward Cullen:** lady Gaga IS good! She’s beyond amazing :D

 

 **Batman Payno:** Wellll no thanks, I don’t want to injure any part of my body like you did walking through the door limping and icing your penis for two days straight after going

on a date with Mrs Cougar

 

 **Edward Cullen:** she was nice.

 

 **Batman Payno:** you know some people call it rape but who am I to judge right?

I frown reading his message. Caroline did not rape me no matter what everyone thinks even my sister!

 

 **Edward Cullen:** Says the one who cheated on their really beautiful girlfriend. Have you seen her wearing the leopard dress? HABBA HABBA :*

 

 **Batman Payno:** GO AWAY!  >:(

 

 **Batman Payno:** She dumped me anyway

 

 **Edward Cullen:** I’m not going to comment on this because you know what I think so I’m going offline :|

 

 **Batman Payno:** You still think I cheated on Danielle with Sophia? :O

 

 **Edward Cullen:** Yes

 

 **Batman Payno:** I’d be lyinggg that that’s hurtful but seeing as you don’t feel anything anymoore, where are you going?

 

 **Batman Payno:** smoking some weed are we?

 

 **Edward Cullen:** I’m smoking right now but not weed.

 

 **Batman Payno:** Oh Hazzzza, you’re ruining your life with drugs and smoking every SINGLE hour!!!!

 

 **Edward Cullen:** Liam?

 

 **Batman Payno:** Yeah?

 

 **Edward Cullen:** Go away!

 

 **Batman Payno:** Plans for the afternoon apart from killing your lungs and liver?

 

 **Edward Cullen:** Nope, just going to write songs for the album then catch up on AHS

 

 **Batman Payno:** AHS?

 

 **Edward Cullen:** American Horror Story

 

 **Batman Payno:** YUCK! THAT SHIT IS SOOOOO SCCARY!!!!

 

 **Edward Cullen:** No it’s not!

 

 **Batman Payno:** whatever! Look Sophia is here so this is me going off

 

 **Edward Cullen:** wiat, what’s her Skype?

 

 **Batman Payno:** why??

 

 **Edward Cullen:** Lana wanted to ask her about her hair products or something

 

 **Batman Payno:** ok

 

 **Batman Payno:** Sophiaxx0x

 _Well that was easy_ , my inner god shakes his glass unbelievably. Some people are just too gullible I guess.

 

 **Edward Cullen:** Talk in the evening?

 

 **Batman Payno:** yeah, bye Hazzaaa

 

I go on Twitter next, seeing as Facebook was not working or whatevs and sigh, at the number of retweets of people asking me to follow them back. I follow @STILES_THE_TITTIES and update my status:

 

**_Harry Styles_ ** _@Harry_Styles 3:06PM  
Is it too much to ask for something great?_

And just like that my mentions and interactions blow up like crazy, increasing by a thousand every five seconds. I wonder what it’s like for Justin Bieber with 49, 000, 000 followers or was it 52, 000, 000? I shrug and click on my DM with 2353 messages. I click on the ‘Read All’ button because seriously, ain’t nobody got time for reading all those DMs.

 **@Harry_Styles:** Hey love .xx

 

I wait for Raghdad to reply and shrug seeing as she’s not online. I light up two cigarettes and go on Youtube and listen to Lana’s album as I figure out what do apart from adding a new title to my song _Something Great_. Our song writer always told us to write from the heart which was essentially easy for me but with all the drugs in your system, the half bottles of whatever poison is inside them and the smoke rotting your lungs, it numbs your heart that you stop feeling. And that’s where I was headed: the Numbville. Let’s just hope I write my three songs before I reach there and hopefully Dr Hitsugaya will help me not feel numb. And as the doctor said, I should take the pills so that I can feel something even though it’s pain beyond repair.

 _You should get another therapist_ , my inner god advices.

“What’s the point?” I ask. “I won’t be seeing her soon.”

_Does this have to do with your big plan?_

“Yes,” I say and I stop caring that I’m talking to myself, locked inside Louis’ cupboard. “And my plan is falling into place. As soon as I finish writing my songs, I’ll be gone forever.”

 _Gone where?_ my inner god asks. I don’t answer him as Raghdad finally comes online.

 **@StylesMyFace:** Hiiiiiiiiiiiii oMgs tyou’RE ONLIEN

 

 **@Harry_Styles:** Still not used to me following you? .xx

 

 **@StylesMyFace:** I never will be! it all feels surreal. what’s new? i saw Louis going on a date with EleWHORE:(

 

I laugh seeing her call Eleanor “Elewhore”, just like me!

 **@Harry_Styles:** Haha it doesn’t matter that much because Lou and I spent two days together under the covers.

 

 **@StylesMyFace:** in bed? omG SWA THERE LARRY SEX? )”) ;) ;) ;)

 

 **@Harry_Styles:** no, just cuddling and stuff :)

 

 **@StylesMyFace:** MY feels are TOO MUCH HARYR!!!!11!!!!

 

 **@StylesMyFace:** I’m going TO SHIT IN MY PANTS

 

 **@Harry_Styles:** Why are you soiling in your pants? :O

 

 **@StylesMyFace:** Soiling my pants? you’re too cute for your own good haZZAAAA

 

 **@Harry_Styles:** I try… for Louis .xx

 

 **@StylesMyFace:** I still can’t believe you’re gaaaaaaaaaaaaay

 

 **@Harry_Styles:** Why? .xx

 

 **@StylesMyFace:** it was obvious but you know we never thought it’d be true

 

 **@Harry_Styles:** We?

Who else had she told? I wonder.

 

 **@StylesMyFace:** the fandom but don’t worry, your secret is safe with me

 

 **@Harry_Styles:** Thank you!

 

 **@Harry_Styles:** How was it obvious?

 

 **@StylesMyFace:** Your glittery boots, your exaggerated smile, your sex hair, the way you look into Louis’ eyes…

I look at the picture she’s DMed me and it’s one of me looking at Lou in the studio for NSBC in 2011 when life was easy and simple and Larry Stylinson felt like something that could actually happen which made being around him bearable and when the fandom was on board the Larry ship, my fantasies couldn’t have been close to reality! Gaah, is it too much to ask for something great?

 **@Harry_Styles:** Cute picture :)

 

 **@StylesMyFace:** same! Why can’t #larrybereal?

 

 **@Harry_Styles:** For one he’s straight, I’m dating Lana and management would kill me if I ever came out >:(

 

 **@StylesMyFace:** let’s KILL MODEST! Is Hana real?

 

 **@Harry_Styles:** No, it’s publicity babe but she’s really nice.

 

 **@StylesMyFace:** aAFLAKN YOU CALLED ME BBAE

 

 **@Harry_Styles:** Anytime babe ;)

 

 **@StylesMyFace:** STAPH HARREHHHHHHHH NAD A WINYK FAEC!?!???!?!

 

 **@Harry_Styles:** OK babe!

 

 **@StylesMyFace:** STAPH! please don’t fall in love with her you have Louis

 

 **@Harry_Styles:** I won’t, that’s a promise because Louis is all I want so much that it hurts :(

 

 **@StylesMyFace:** :’”””””””””””””””((

 

 **@Harry_Styles:** Please don’t cry for me

 

 **@StylesMyFace:** Why don’t you tell Louis he means the world to you?

 

 **@Harry_Styles:** it’s not that simple.

 

 **@StylesMyFace:** it is, walk up to him, say it and wait for his reply

 

 **@Harry_Styles:** I can’t.

 

 **@StylesMyFace:** why not H? Nick and the others love for you so why would Louis be any diffrenet?

 

 **@Harry_Styles:** you know what my Jaggermister is over so let me refresh and I’ll be back..

 

 **@StylesMyFace:** LOL you drunk :D

I grudgingly get up, my legs absolutely numb for sitting crossed for like a billion hours. With socks on my feet, I tread to the kitchen ever so slowly, wondering why I’m even walking slowly and then remember the white and pink pills I took, the ones that calmed the nerves of in-patients at mental hospitals in the 1960s. I must be sick!

 _You are fucking sick Harry_ , my inner god admits it.

I return back, a normal beer in one hand, my sixth kush brownie of the day, heading back to Louis’ room. I stop by my room to pick my phone, checking if I had any missed calls, or if anyone missed me.

“Great, nothing at all,” I sigh. I turn and …OW! My body heads towards the floor, my head first hitting the ground with a loud thud, shatters of glass all around me. I turn to see what I tripped on and my heart rises to my mouth.

It’s my diary.

What’s my diary doing on the floor in my room? And why is it open? And more specifically, who’s handwriting is that on the page. I lift my ‘One & Only’ and read what’s written on there:

_I know your secret, MR X_

I spin around really first attempting to see if Mr X or whoever wrote this message would be in the room.

Panic.

Panic.

_Don’t panic._

_Keep calm_

Panic.

Somebody was in the apartment. Somebody came into the apartment when I was in Louis’ room and found my diary! Somebody in the entire world knows I’m gay, somebody I don’t know and more importantly, somebody who’s haunted me before. It was late in 2012 when there was a rumor that four of us in One Direction were going to be killed by Mr X and the entire fandom was panicking, concerned for our safety. We played it cool but we were really scared. I don’t remember much of it all but I remember Zayn saying how calm I was or in his words, “Unusually calm.” Like I didn’t mind that I had a 50-50 percent chance of making it alive after that MSG concert.

I get up, tears blurring my vision, my head feeling like a fucking army was in battle, my feet heavy with worn and tear, my lips emitting whale sounds that were blocking my tears and snort but useless since I was crying.

_Why are you crying?_

Panic. Panic.

I check the main door but it’s closed, no sign of a robber trying to enter the house. 20 minutes later of searching the apartment, there’s no sign of a robbery and my mind rushes to the fact that somebody specifically wanted to come to our apartment. I force my legs to get walking to my bathroom, my sobs coming out as chokes. I feel like I could cry out my lungs as I heave in for air and exhale more tears.

Stop crying.

Someone knows I’m gay!!

Stop crying.

Numb the pain.

I open the cabinet medicine, clumsily holding too many bottle pills that some fell to the ground.

Orange.

Red.

Blue.

White.

Someone knows I’m gay!!

Black.

Yellow.

For the pain.

Someone knows my secret!!

 _For the pain_.

Right now my mind forgot the use of each color and popped them all at once. I walk back my room but my legs can’t take me further, my eyes can’t see that far, my hands holding the wall with all the might they can.

I slump my back against the wall, inches from Louis’ door, sliding down it like the tears from my eyes.

Somebody planned on coming here.

Somebody knew about my diary.

Somebody knew I had a secret to keep.

Somebody wanted to know that I’m a hanger in a closet.

And that somebody was _who?_

_I can’t feel it._

Novacane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *WMYB laughing plays in the background*


	14. [21 Jump Street]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh, Harry gets in trouble with Modest! Management....

_++_

_Can't I have fun for the rest of my life, just go where the wind blows ~ **Coco O.**_

_++_

_ _

 

There comes a time in one’s life when one knows their life is messed up and screwed. But once you know that, you enter a state of denial because you don’t want to face your problems, _you can’t face your problems_ , and you never will.

Or until somebody notices that you’re drowning in your problems.

Unfortunately for me, Louis was the person who noticed me drowning in my problems. Of course, I’m using his words, not mine. I don’t have a problem.

_Pills._

I am perfectly fine, living my life with no worries.

_Alcoholic._

Doesn’t everybody need a drink once in a while?

 _You’re a monster_.

We all have a different reality than each other!

 

Two days ago, on Tuesday, Louis found me unconscious lying against his bedroom door. He panicked, according to what King told me yesterday at our usual 11AM breakfast meet-up. Louis called him immediately seeing as he was the second person on speed dial. He told King, his voice quivering, that I was unconscious on the floor, my body was ice-cold, my eyes dilated they almost turned black, my hair was in a frenzy state but the worst was the dried tears on my face, having soaked the carpet my almost dead body lay on.

King, after telling Louis to calm down and it was an overdose, told him to go to my bathroom and look for Ipecac Syrup which would help me throw up all the pills I had digested. It worked because moments later I woke up to a scared Louis, muttering words I couldn’t hear as half of them were occluded by watery eyes and muffled by his mouth on my skin, happy I was alive. _Alive_.

All I was wondering was why he was crying.

“Why would you overdose Harry?” he had asked me, both of us lying on his bed hours after cleaning me up, dressing me in his PJs. It was all a blur really, the effects of the pills I had taken already in my system.

“I didn’t overdose,” I told him, feeling the warmth of his chest against my cheek.

“You took 15 pills at once!”

“It wasn’t an overdose,” I told him. It’s true. I didn’t overdose, I really didn’t. But a part of me just wondered if I really was overdosing on those drugs. What if I really did overdose? Was I trying to kill myself?

“It wasn’t an overdose,” I repeated.

“Were you suicidal?” he asked blankly. Oh, was I suicidal?

“No,” I told him, shutting him up by nuzzling my nose against his neck and sleeping.

I guess there comes a time in one’s life when one knows their life is messed up and screwed. But once you know that, you enter a state of denial because you don’t want to face your problems, _you can’t face your problems_ , and you never will because running is easier.

That was two days ago.

Today we had another meeting [ _snore!_ my inner god groans] with Management and of course it was about _me_ and my song writing. I was not thinking about that but about the party of the year that King was holding. He usually hosts it at his mansion up in London, and preparation begins six full days prior to D-Day; today. His parties are legendary as always: drinks from exotic countries you can’t pronounce, food you thought only existed in glossy magazines, people attending are the who’s-who of society, music blasting down two kilometers from his mansion, gate crushers make up a quarter of the partyholics, strippers specifically from Playboy or really expensive hookers, drugs flowing in that are even rumored to be illegal in Mexico… I could go on and on but Jill’s insistence on talking about me interrupts my fantasies about tonight… and any hook-ups I can get from the London socialites.

“Harry!”

“What?” I grumble.

“It would be nice of you to join us in this meeting,” Jill says. “Because after all, you are the reason why we’re here today.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I sarcastically say.

“Where are your songs?”

I don’t reply, feeling Louis’ intense gaze and momentarily wondering if the right side of my face looks good.

“Where are your songs?” Mark repeats Jill’s answers. Sheesh, are these two idiots dating?

“They’re under construction,” I say. This is actually true; I didn’t finish _Something Great_ because Raghdad was distracting me on Twitter and then somebody broke into our apartment to get my diary. For a second I panic and wonder if the person is in this room.

Right this very second.

I feel Louis squeeze my knee and I snap my neck towards him, the space on my knee tingling at his touch. He cocks his head towards the _other_ guys and I raise my eyebrow.

“What?”

Mark repeats. “I was asking what do you mean under construction?”

“I am not done,” I say flatly.

Before Jill or Mark burst in anger, as is the case always, Liam speaks up first, obviously having a lot of _feelings_ towards this issue that he never told me before. “You can’t be serious Harry! It’s been months since we were told to start writing songs for our third album. Months” – he seeths – “But maybe if you weren’t partying every other night, getting high at Nick’s house or popping multicolored pills in your body, and having sex with every blond you meet on the street, you would have already have finished writing your songs and-”

“What pills?” Simon asks. Thanks Liam, I cock the gun.

“Prescription pills,” Louis says before I do.

“For what?”

“Anxiety,” he lies again, his nose flaring.

“That’s bullshit!” Zayn says. “He doesn’t have anxiety!”

“He does,” Louis says, lying again. “I know him!”

“And we don’t?” Liam scoffs.

“Enough!” Jill sighs.

“Harry clearly isn’t serious with this band so he should quit,” Liam says, silencing the entire room and the thoughts about King’s party tonight.

“He doesn’t deserve to be in this band,” Zayn chips in. “He’s never attended any rehearsal since March!”

“Is this true Harry?” Simon asks and I nod my head.

“He refuses to meet up with us discussing the worldwide tours where we talk about which countries we’d like to perform in, what we want to do with the lighting on stage when we’re singing,” Niall says, talking for the first time since the start of this meeting. Did he hate me as well? I wonder. _Probably_.

“We should give you an ultimatum Harry,” Mark says.

“Yes,” Jill smiles, her eyes squinting and teeth clenched together. Was she the one who broke into our apartment and stole my bloody diary? It could be her, I mean people who wear glasses have always been suspicious; always plotting against their enemies and anyone who threatens them.

Towards me, Liam says, “You either be serious or quit the band.”

Simon roars, “Absolutely not.”

“Is that an option?” I ask Jill. She looks at Mark who looks at the bloke next to him and eventually turns into a staring contest.

“Absolutely not,” Simon roars. “Harry is not quitting the band and you’re not going to dictate who stays in the band and who leaves Liam. I am the one who does that. As for you Harry, you have 2 weeks to write this song… or else you will leave this band.”

“You can’t make me quit!” I shout angrily. He has no right do that. He can’t kick me out of the world’s biggest boy band where I was the face of it. There’s no One Direction without Harry Styles. Without me.

“You can’t do that,” Niall and Louis plead with Simon but he shakes his head.

“I told you last time to weigh the pros and cons of being in this band but it looks like you didn’t and this is making my decision of kicking you out of the band easier and easier.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, my mouth going dry. Is this what it feels like to lose everything? Is this what happens when you watch something you love slowly being taken away from you? _Is this what it feels like?_

“Ever since Justin’s birthday party you’ve changed Harry. Now I know I defended you when everyone in this room was blaming you for attracting a huge attention towards One Direction but I think I ignored the negativity of it all. I forgot to see what you were actually doing to this band that all five of you have worked terribly hard to be where you are right now. Harry, you’re destroying this band by your daily choices, you’re always out partying, drinking yourself silly with crooks you call friends and now I’m hearing that you’re on drugs too?”

He pauses and looks at me. I keep my mouth shut, Louis squeezing my hand, resting on top on his thigh.

“You’re display wrong morals to your viewers and sending wrong signals that alcoholism and being a drug addict is correct when it’s not. Why are you doing this? Are you sabotaging One Direction? Is that it? Is this your big plan?”

“No sir,” I say, hearing his strict, manly tone deafening my ears.

“I think you are Harry. You are ruining One Direction with your negative life choices and get this right H,” he says, his mouth tight shut as his eyes burn into mine. He leans forward on his leather seat, his elbows squarely on the table. The room is deathly silent, apart from the sound of our hearts beating together like African drums waiting for the dancers to emerge.

“You’re spiraling fast and low every single day and I will not let you take One Direction the same way,” he says. “You either shape up or ship out!”

 

*

 

We were in the car heading back home after the meeting and to be fair, nowadays the meetings should be called “Let’s bash Harry” instead of what meetings are intended for which is improvement and development of our career.

 _I am not making bad decisions no matter what Simon says_.

“Where were you?” Louis asks Niall. After screaming at the top of my lungs at Liam for telling me to quit the band it shut everyone up for a long time. Instead, the chatter box, Louis decides it is investigation time about the robbery that happened a few days ago. I had explained to Louis that we were robbed by thieves [a complete lie of course] but the thieves had the keys to our apartment so technically that doesn’t count as thieves, right?

Anyway, Louis had a way of making someone squirm in his seat when he asked questions if he knew you were guilty.

“I was at home the entire time,” Niall says defensively.

“That’s a lie,” I say.

“He had friends over for barbecue,” Liam says.

“There’s no evidence!” I say. “Call Amy Green now to see if it’s true.”

“She didn’t come,” Niall says, his face as white as snow.

“Even if she did come,” Louis says, lowering his gaze to Niall who was sitting at the window. “Directioners would have known you’re having a BBQ because they know where you live but _nada_! Nothing on Twitter or tumblr or wherever about you having a barbecue.”

“They weren’t there yesterday,” Niall says, his pitch high a bit. He almost sounds like a girl, haha.

 _How convenient_ , my inner god rolls his eyes.

“For all we know Niall, you’re the one who broke into Louis and Harry’s apartment,” Zayn says.

“This is ridiculous,” Niall shakes his head.

“So why did you do it?” Liam asks.

“I told you,” Niall says to Liam, feeling cornered. “I told you I was having a barbecue!”

“You could be lying to me Niall, you’ve done this before,” Liam says. “Besides, I don’t care about you” – Niall and the rest of us gasp because rude Liam – “when I’m trying to work out my relationship with Sophia.”

“Did you cheat on her?” Louis asks.

“Yes,” Liam says, his tone quiet.

“Are you kidding me?” Zayn asks. “You cheat on Danielle, you cheat on Sophia, soon you’ll be cheating on your mother as well!”

“You’re one to talk,” Liam scoffs.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You forgot you cheated on Perrie with that dumb Australian,” I say.

“I’m not the one on the roll on cheating on women,” Zayn says glaring at Liam and looks out the window, his eyebrows crossed, eyes closed. Liam shuffles in his seat, his body faced away from all of us.

“Niall, why did you break into our apartment?” I ask him before this conversation hits flat line.

“I did not!”

“What did you steal?”

“I did not steal anything because I did not break into your billion pound apartment!”

“You came into my apartment and stole my diary,” I say and hoping that what I’ve said doesn’t sound like a 4-year old whining.

“I did not steal anything!”

“Give it up Niall,” Louis says. “We all know you’re lying!”

“I did not steal anything,” Niall screams all of a sudden. Even Zayn and Liam turn to face him, glancing momentarily at each other. “I wouldn’t barge into your apartment and steal your diary because I respect you lads too much. I love you all which includes not breaking in!” – he turns to Paul who was driving –“stop the car, I want to get off!”

“Eh,” Paul hesitates. “I can’t let you off, you’re going for rehearsals with Paul.”

“I’m not going for rehearsals if these guys,” – he points at us –“are coming as well.”

“No Niall, you’re going to-”

Niall unlocked the button to his car and opened his back door, Paul immediately breaking, sending all of us forward. He got off, falling to the ground but getting up quickly and running backwards.

“Niall,” Liam shouts but Paul pressed on the pedal and speeds down the road.

 

*

 

“What the fuck?” King asks me when I walk through his door, up to his bedroom where Ed, Nick and Conor were already. “Oh it’s you, you scared me!”

“I see your caterers are quite friendly,” I say, pointing at the love bite on my collar bone. “Jennifer, was it?”

I see King freezing on the spot but it goes away and I lift my eyebrow. “Did you date her?”

“It was a one-night stand,” he says. “Why are you dressed like you’re a hobo?”

“I had a long day and I want to forget everything that’s ever happened in the last few days,” I say walking into King’s walk-in closet. Thankfully, King’s fashion sense was good enough so I borrowed his black jeans, walking around in it to find a shirt.

“What happened?” Conor asks.

“Apart from the overdose?” King asks.

“Apart from spending endless hours with Louis?” Nick says.

“Or apart from Simon telling him he has two weeks to write songs for his album,” Ed says. “Or he’ll be thrown out.”

I ignore the looks the three lads were giving me and try on a shirt I found.

“Harry, you’re throwing away your future very fast,” King says. “Now I’m going to overlook the overdose because quite frankly that was an accident but not writing songs is ridiculous. You lose this band, you lose everything around you!”

“Reality sinks in,” I say, plopping myself on his bed near Nick.

“I know it’s hard but it’s the damn truth,” King says. “You may not show it but you’re scared about losing all of this. I know you don’t have trouble writing songs so I don’t why you’re taking so long to write a damn song but you need to smoke some weed for two days straight and write those three songs and go have fun for the rest of your life.”

I close my eyes and think about it for a second. Weird enough I don’t think about the fans, performing on stage to thousands of thousands, writing songs that have subtle meanings of love to Louis… Louis!

“I lose everything, Louis along with it,” I say. “I lose him and then what will I have left? A broken heart in a billion pieces, each miniscule piece can only be found in a country and you have to find it or else you’ll remain broken for eternity. Do you know how hard it is to find a precious jewel in a country?”

“You’re rambling again Harry,” Ed says. I heave myself off the bed and sit on it, gazing at the people around the room. For split second, we were actually normal, normal lads who have a party already going on downstairs and that made me smile because we were pure, coated with the finest sugar.

“I love you guys,” I say with sincerity in my heart.

“Someone’s mushy again,” Conor smiles, hugging me from the side on the bed.

“Listen, this isn’t a sob fest,” King says, refusing to join in on the bro…hug? “This is my party of the year and finally I have a stable relationship with someone worth fighting for.”

“You know she was a hooker, right?” I tell him. He glares at me but I don’t care. “It’s a miracle you’re still with her.”

“I like her. Simple,” he says. “But like I was saying this isn’t a session with Dr Phil, this is my party. For tonight, we’re going to forget about our drug addictions” – he looks at Ed – “our issues about our sexuality in a diary” – he looks at me – “and our issues with everything and anything in our lives. Just for a night we’re going to have fun, forget our troubles and have a good time.”

“Hear hear,” Conor cheers.

“But my diary-” I say, my mind battling with the fears inside me. “Somebody knows-”

“Yes we all know about that,” Ed says. “But we all need interference in our life once in a while to just get away from it all.”

“And today is a way of doing that,” says Nick.

“And to kick it off I got the same exact drugs from _21 Jump Street_ ,” King says, holding something that looks like pee with a halo in a bag.

“From the movie?” Nick asks.

“Exact!”

“Where?” Conor asks.

“My dealer,” he says plainly. “So we each take two of these and we’re going to have fun for the rest of the night.”

We each took one, holding King’s secret stash of spirits on the other hand.

“Say goodbye to our problems,” I hold my drink up.

“Wey hey,” Nick cheers.

“To a night of having fun and getting wasted,” King cheers.

“Life is good brothers, let’s not forget,” Ed says and we clink, gushing down _21 Jump Street_.

 

 

**_Harry Styles_ ** _@Harry_Styles 10:03PM_

_A little party never killed nobody :)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> H always looks like he has a blast when he parties /= wanna join him sO BAD


	15. [Glamorous]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh harry gets a rude shock about one of his friends....

_++_

_And I would hold you closer ~ **One Direction**_

_++_

 

“You need to wear pants,” Louis said as Harry walked down the carpeted stairs towards the breakfast table in his Superman boxers. Louis was placing plates and bowls on the table, glasses of juice already filled and sweet aroma filling in the air.

“I’m only wearing boxers because you’ll kill me if I don’t,” he shrugged. “Smells good.”

“It’s waffles,” he says. “I thought that after everything we’ve gone through and your hangover from King’s party, you need a hangover cure and I need something sweet.”

“I don’t get hangovers,” Harry says, hugging Louis from behind, his naked thighs touching Louis’ _Pierce the Veil_ black sweatpants. He momentarily froze over the kitchen counter with chocolate syrup in one hand, a spatula in the other. Harry smiled and placed a delicate kiss on his neck.

“Why?” Louis asked, breathing out silently. Harry shrugged, taking a big bite off an apple. Louis brought breakfast on the table and they soon began eating, their mouths full at once, their hands reaching out for more juice to gush down the waffles.

“You look like you’re in pain sitting on that chair,” Louis notes, pouring himself juice.

“I’m fine,” Harry smiles weakly, wondering why his butt was hurting. Did he have sex last night?

“It’s like you got butt fucked at the party,” Louis laughs and Harry joins in rapidly, his heart skipping a quick beat you would think he was on the onset of a heart attack.

“That would be crazy,” he says, forcing himself to sit properly on the chair. He didn’t want Louis to get closer to the truth. The truth that he may or may not have had gay sex at the party. But with who?

“Do you have to add alcohol to your juice?” Louis asked, chewing his strawberry flavored waffle.

“Alcohol has become like water for me,” he replied. “And-”

“ _J’accuse_ Harry,” Louis said in his best French accent. “ _J’accuse_.”

“And yes I know I’m an addict before you accuse me which you already have.”

“Well I guess I don’t need to lecture you on the harmful effects of alcohol,” he says, slowly scraping off the chocolate syrup from his fork. The way his lips gracefully grazed softly over the sliver fork…

“Harry,” he said distracting me.

“Yeah,” I said, still in a trance. “Oh right, the harmful effects. Nah, I know them and yadda yadda adda, let’s eat.”

“I was also going to say, before you interrupted me too, I know you smoke as well and I’m fine with it.”

Harry gaped at Louis, not sure he was hearing right. The same Louis who barked at Zayn when he dared smoke in the studio, the same Louis who grabbed Zayn’s fag and threw it out of the moving tour bus in Canada, the same Louis who banned Zayn from our apartment because you know, secondhand smoke?

“You’re kidding right?”

“No,” he shook his head, squeezing the chocolate syrup bottle above his waffles. “I’m serious, if you want to smoke you can and I’m sorry for talking about Eleanor in all our conversations.”

“It’s fine,” he said. He walked to the kitchen coming back with a cigarette and lit it up.

“No, it’s not,” Louis said, watching smoke evaporate in the air. For a split second his thoughts were lost and admired the smoke surrounding his best friend looking like model on a glossy magazine. “It upset you-”

“Is this because of the overdose?”

“Y-yes and no,” Louis stammers, his waffle stuck on a fork.

“Undecided Tomlinson,” Harry smirked at his love life. “There’s a first.”

“First time for everything,” Louis said.

“I guess,” he replied, squeezing the butt of his cigarette. “Any plans for today?”

“I was thinking we should go ice-skating.”

“It’s nearly summer Lou,” Harry said.

“Like I always say, don’t let the weather dictate your fun,” Louis announced, Harry enjoying watching Louis munching on his waffles and talking at the same time. There was a fascination in watching the person you love with your entire heart, munch on chocolate-covered waffles, and talk about ice-skating with you. I mean, he could have gone with his girlfriend, his best friend Stan or heck, even Zayn but Harry?

Life can be bliss at times.

“Or in the wise words of Niall, fuck you wind,” Harry chuckled, quoting Niall’s recent tweet.

“I’m sorry about Niall too,” Louis apologized. At this rate will he apologize for merely being alive?

“It’s fine, Lou. Let’s just go to his house before we go ice-skating, yeah?”

Louis was about to answer but his phone rang and Harry guessed it was Eleanor as he looked nervously across the table at Harry.

“Hi Gemma,” he answered, surprising Harry a bit. “I don’t know, maybe it’s off.”

“What?” Harry mouthed.

Harry listened in to clues in the conversation when Louis palmed to his face. “He went for a party last night… of course he was drunk, it was King’s party… wait, what? What do you mean he better not be involved?... what has Harry done?... news? Ed Sheeran? When?... No, he didn’t, I went to pick him up yesterday because he was too drunk to drive” – Harry smirked remembering the drunk phone call to Louis –“ OK, then. Bye Gemma.”

“What?”

“Where’s your phone?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said, wondering his phone actually was. He hoped he hadn’t left it at the party yesterday.

“Gemma says we should turn on the TV. Something happened to Ed Sheeran,” he said walking to the TV room upstairs, Harry following suit.

“My Ed?”

“Is there another?”

“There’s _Ed, Edd & Eddy_,” Harry laughed under his breath, Louis turning to smile at him and then climbing up the stairs. “What did she mean by involved?”

“I don’t know, she just said ‘I hope he’s not involved in all of this’,” Louis shrugged, looking for the remote.

Click.

“Involved in what?” Harry wondered as the TV screen turned from black to an African American lady reading the headlines.

_News just in, Edward Christopher Sheeran, a renowned British singer, has been found dead in his house in London early this morning._

“Try another channel,” Harry orders.

Click.

_Police are investigating the death of Edward Sheeran, who was this morning found dead in his house by his mother._

Click.

_Police were called this morning at 4 o’clock by his mother who was visiting him during his break from the Red Tour with Taylor Swift._

Click.

_Police are guessing his cause of death may be an overdose but investigations are still on going._

Click.

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” Louis said, hugging Harry, whose face was glued to the TV with pictures of Ed’s house.

“He’s not dead,” he muttered under his breath. Ed… Edward Sheeran… His namesake was dead!? “He can’t be dead.”

“Maybe it’s just for publicity,” Louis said, cupping Harry’s face in between his tiny fingers, Harry’s locks clamped between them.

“No,” Harry shook his head. “He wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t leave me. He promised he’d never leave me. He promised.”

“He did,” Louis repeated, holding broad shouldered-Harry in place. He was shaking in tears, muttering words he couldn’t properly hear but all he could definitively hear was: “He’s not dead, He’s not dead,” over and over again and he couldn’t stop him. You can’t stop grief, no matter what.

His words were muffled into Louis’ shirt continuously, realization hitting him like an avalanche that one of his best friends was dead.

Gone.

He wasn’t coming back.

Ever.

He’s dead.

Harry slid down to the floor against Louis’ body, hands around his ankles, his cries louder than the TV, going on about investigating his death.

“Harry!” Louis called, turning off the TV. “Harry.”

“He’s dead,” Harry wept, his mouth forming a downward curl, tears staining his eye balls. “He’s not dead, he’s still alive.”

Tongue-tied, Louis pulled Harry onto his lap and rocked him sideways. Harry however, got off his grip, his head smashing the floor, his wails louder this time. Is this what Gemma meant? Louis wondered. Did she think that Harry killed Ed? Or was involved like in the murder of Ellie Goulding?

“Harry, listen to me,” Louis gushed. “Your sister doesn’t think you killed him-”

“I killed Ellie, why would she think differently?” he roared angrily at him, saliva hitting Louis’ cheek.

“You didn’t kill Ellie.”

“You know that’s a lie,” he blubbered. He lay down on the carpet floor and pulled Harry to lie on top of him. Harry wriggled out of his grip and run out of the room, his cries echoing along the corridor. He followed him, listening for his cries. He turned right, left, left, right and then left to find Harry curled on the bathroom ceramic floor, drowning in his own tears.

 

***MARIMBA RINGTONE***

 

“How is he?” Liam gushed through the phone as soon as Louis picked up. Liam and the others were at Niall’s house, watching the news as well.

“He’s terribly sad,” Louis said, flinching at the constant cries coming from Harry’s mouth. His face was now a bit red, from all the crying, his hair all pushed back. His body was awkwardly spread on the bathroom floor, gripping it tightly for strength and comfort.

“We’re coming in 5,” Liam said, cutting the phone. He sat near Harry who immediately held onto his waist, Louis wrapping his body over the smaller lad.

“I never said goodbye,” he wailed, Louis rubbing his back. “I never said goodbye. We were meant to grow old, old and weathered like-”

Fresh waterworks stained his face, chocking his words that he wasn’t able to utter anymore. Harry straddled Louis, his face buried deep into his shoulders, his fingers holding onto it tightly for dear life. After a little while, Harry’s wails become more violent that Louis suspected Harry wasn’t just crying because of Ed’s death; it was because of everything!

“Harry talk to me,” Louis pleaded, looking into Harry’s green eyes. He shut his eyes, streams of water pouring through the seam lines.

Harry thought about the drugs he was taking, all the alcohol his body was swimming in, the smoke that now made home in his lungs, the friends he ignored including the one he was being held by….. The weight of the world was pushing him down; everything he burnt, everyone he ignored, the fun he had without caring who he hurt on the way.

“It hurts,” Harry gurgled on his tears, his voice aching through the walls of the bathroom. Louis looked up and saw Liam, Zayn and Niall, all of them confused and worried about their lad.

And that’s when it really sank in: that these god damn drugs won’t fix him. The multiple colored drugs, the _21 Jump Street_ drugs, the therapy, the booty calls, the cigarettes he smoked hourly… none of these would fix him. He naively thought that he would cure the gay monster in him but unfortunately the gay monster won.

And that’s when it hit him; that being gay was hard wired into his body, woven into his soul that no drug or eight hundred pound bottle would cure it. He was stuck with his monster.

“Make it stop, please make it stop,” he continued, pleading to Louis, wetting both their faces with his hot, sour tears.

What then would happen if the drugs couldn’t fix him? He could end it all right now? He could kill the monster inside of him, the monster that destroyed his ENTIRE life.

_But how?_

“What do we do?” Zayn asked Liam, watching his broken band mate tagging Louis’ shirt like a baby cradling his mother.

But that’s where the world got it wrong. He didn’t want to commit suicide, he just wanted to die. There is a difference. He was tired of waking up each day [and forgetting why he woke up too], going through life with a cigar in one hand, bottle in the other, walking through it like a ghost. The only difference was that he had a beating heart. He prayed upon Rumpelstiltskin to offer him a wish, a wish that his life would end, that he would free him from this prison, to kill the monster living inside of him.

“Please make it stop,” Harry cries, pulling Louis’ shirt down but ended up pulling the boy down with him to the cold, hard ground.

Louis had made a mistake.

He’d made many in his life but this mistake was the worst he could ever have made; he made the mistake of thinking that pain could only be seen through marks on the skin. He thought the only people who were in a lot of pain cut their wrists to control the pain, stored large amounts of bleach under their bed, spent hours in the bathroom spilling breakfast, lunch and dinner down the hole or even burning their thighs with fire just to _feel_ something.

He was wrong. Harry did none of the things he just thought of. He did nothing to control the pain; he kept it all inside his fragile heart, not wanting scare of the world with his problems, to show the world how dark his thoughts were, to frighten the universe that he was a walking monster. For his best friend it was much worse because he kept everything inside where it was all laid bare; the frenzy of emotions, the monsters burning inside of him, his battle with the demons within, and ghosts from his past. Yes, for Harry it was much worse than any pain.

Holding Harry tightly in his arms, shivering that he could feel his pain, his weeps stifling for a bit, he hoped that he could relieve some of his best friend’s sorrow, just to take it off his shoulders. But he couldn’t, all he could do was hold him tight, hoping to ease some of the pain.

“What do we do?” Zayn asked, this time to everyone in the room.

“Get it out of me!”

“He’s going nuts!” Niall trembled in his spot.

“Call Anne,” Louis commanded, tightening his grip around the boys’ thin waist. “Now!”

“Who the fuck is Anne?” Zayn asked.

“Harry’s mom,” Louis gushed through clenched teeth. Why isn’t anybody doing anything?

Niall barged into the bathroom and grabbed the phone from Louis and dialed ‘Anne Twist’. On the third rings, a middle-aged woman’s voice echoed through the bathroom.

_Hello?_

Liam spoke first. “Hello, Mrs Anne? This is Liam Payne from One Direction-”

_I know you._

“Have you heard the news?” Liam asked her. Harry’s moans sub died for a bit his tears following the previous trail. Anne’s voice was now more audible.

_Yes, Ed Sheeran is dead, right? What does this have to do with me?_

“It’s concerning your son Harry, he’s very upset and we were thinking if you would come down and-”

_Comfort him?_

“Yes please.”

_Absolutely not! Why should I take care of the son who left me three years ago? The same son who accuses me of killing my own husband?_

“Your son needs you.”

_Tell him to fuck off!_

“Your son is not getting better,” Zayn said, grabbing the phone from Liam’s fingers. “Your son has been sick since he joined One Direction. He needs his mother right now than he ever did, please come save your son.”

_Go away and don’t call me again!_

“She actually cut the phone,” Liam said, staring at Louis’ iPhone. Their shocked silence was interrupted by shaky breaths from the alcoholic in the room.

“She hates me,” Harry swept his fingers through his hair and slammed his head to Louis’ chest. “She hates me, Gemma hates me, Georgia hates me, Lana hates me, my best friends hate me, Louis hates me, Liam hates me, Nial-”

“I don’t hate you,” Niall stopped him from continuing. Harry didn’t hear him as he wailed, wept and grunted his sadness. He arched his back, the tip of his head hitting the ceramic floor suddenly, surprising Louis. He pulled the boy up but he couldn’t, growing strong all of a sudden.

“We don’t hate you,” Liam said.

“What do we do?” Zayn asked.

“Let him cry it out,” Louis said, rocking Harry back and forth.

“He’s not going to stop,” Niall said.

“Please Louis, make it stop,” Harry whined. “It’s killing me.”

“Where does it hurt Harry?” Zayn asked.

Placing a shaky palm above his chest, he spread his fingers. “Here.”

“That’s his heart,” Louis mummed. He looked up at the other lads, his heart swelling in sadness, their eyes on the verge of cracking with tears too. Harry rolled over, clutching where his heart was, and pulling his shirt.

“Take it away from me,” he gushed weakly through the room. “Please take it away.”

“Please don’t cry,” Louis pleaded his eyes glassy.

“What hurts so bad?” Liam asked, his eyes on the verge of crying too. He didn’t reply but continued pulling his shirt, the spot above his heart. Louis cupped his left hand into Harry’s and held it. Harry opened his eyes and gazed at the boy hovering above him, Louis giving him a weak smile. Harry rolled his body away from Louis, his waterworks falling like a waterfall onto the white, ceramic floor. Harry pulled his fingers away from Louis’ but he wouldn’t let go, he couldn’t let him go.

“I need you to calm down Harry, for me,” Louis asked as softly as he could.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” Harry mumbled.

“Give him his drugs!” Niall shouted above Harry’s deafening screams.

“He had an overdose before,” Liam said, his tone silently angry.

“Please make it stop Lou,” Harry wept loudly, his lips touching the floor where his tears flooded. Louis pulled him up, the boys arguing about what to do. “Make it go away.”

“It’s the only way to calm him down,” Zayn said. “I think he’s having a heart attack.”

“Harry talk to me,” Louis pleaded as Liam and Niall searched his medicine cabinet.

“I want to die,” Harry said, surprising everyone in the bathroom. “I want to end it all.”

Louis lifted him off the floor and firmly held his teary face centimeters away from his, almost smelling the salty tears. “No, you’re not going to kill yourself-”

“I want to,” he whispered. “Please end it for me.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Louis confessed.

“I have a fucking monster living inside of me-”

“You don’t have any monster inside of you,” Louis said, his eyebrows furrowed. What monster? Louis thought.

“It’s inside of me,” he wailed. “Get…Get… Please make it stop Lou, please.” The last word was a plea to Louis, just him alone.

“Here,” Liam said, holding several neon orange tubes.

“Which one?” Louis asked.

“All,” Harry replied.

“All?”

“No, he’s vulnerable right now,” Louis said.

“So, which one will calm him down?” Liam asked frantically opening the caps of them all. “There’s no description of the pills anywhere on these things.”

“They’re illegal,” Zayn said, his tone serious. The three lads looked at him, waiting for an explanation. “Before One Direction, I used to sell drugs without labels or any descriptions because they were illegal.”

“Like a drug dealer?” Niall asked, his mouth hitting the floor.

“Yeah,” Zayn shrugged. “I only tried one once because a client asked me to. I woke up two days later with no memory of what happened… nor do I remember taking them. All I’m saying, these drugs are dangerous and I’m surprised Harry has a whole stash of them. I used to sell like only two to people otherwise anymore more than two would be an overdose.”

“I think Harry takes more than two at a time,” Liam said, finding more pills in the medicine cabinet.

“It’s like a mini-pharmacy in there,” Niall said surprised by the amount of tiny bags Liam was holding and looking around the bathroom they were in.

“None of these have labels at all, so which one do we give him?”

“How about the blue ones?” Louis asked. Liam ripped open a bag within the cabinet medicine, tens and dozens flying away in all directions. He bent down, his palm filled with several of the blue ones.

“Harry I need you to take these,” Louis said and Harry simply nodded, silently crying. He opened his mouth, Louis placing one on his tongue. “Swallow.”

“Water,” he said, his head heavy on Louis’ chest. Zayn bent on Louis’ left side, holding the glass near Harry’s mouth. Harry tipped his head back as Zayn placed the glass between his lips.

“More.”

“No Harry,” Louis said.

“More,” Harry growled.

“One more,” Louis said.

“Are these the right drugs?” Liam asked, as Harry asked for more, this time green ones.

“We have to trust him,” Louis said, uncertainity strong in his voice.

“You sound unsure,” Zayn said.

“You’re the drug expert here, tell us if they’re correct,” Liam said.

Zayn shook his head. “I-I don’t remember.”

“Wait, can he die?” Niall asked, all of them freezing on the spot not having thought about it.

“I don’t know, can he?” Louis asked, wrapping his arms around Harry who was silently crying now. At least the pills were working.

“Zayn tell us, can he die?” Liam asked, his voice stern and eyes fixated on Harry.

Silence.

“Zayn.Can.He.Die?” He asked, pronouncing each word carefully..

“Zayn fucking answer him,” Louis screamed.

“Yes!”

“Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit,” Niall cursed continously, his hands rummaging through his hair.

“What if he actually dies?” Liam asked, a tear strolling down his cheek.

“There’s a possibility but it’s low,” Zayn reassured them, his voice 100% uncertain. Most people who took five pills and above ended up dead. And for sure they gave Harry **more** than the recommended dosage of two and more than the overdose dosage of five.

“Harry, don’t die on me please,” Louis begged, holding his cheeks in between his soft palms. Harry’s tears rolled off his hazel eyes, down his cheek, stopping briefly where Louis’ hands were and falling silently to the ground.

“More,” he whispered to Louis, his eyes heavy.

“He looks like he’s about to pass out,” Niall panicked, still cursing.

“Harry, you’ve taken like eleven pills, you need to stop,” Louis said, his voice soft.

“One more I swear,” he promised, his hot breath hitting the Doncaster lad’s face. Because he couldn’t say no to his Hazza, Louis picked a turquoise pill off Niall’s palm and gently placed it on the tip of Harry’s tongue. He closed his mouth, his Adam’s apple dancing in his throat. “Thank you Lou.”

“It was nothing Haz,” Louis said, smiling at Harry who looked calm, like this morning when he was eating the waffles he cooked.

“You should lay your head and get some rest before the paparazzi and Modest! call us,” Liam said, his hand trailing his back. Harry nodded. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“Will you lay down with me Boobear?” Harry asked, pleadingly looking at Louis.

“Anything for you Hazza,” Louis smiled because at this point, he’d even take a bullet for his best friend without thinking twice.

Liam and Zayn helped Harry up as Niall stretched his hand for Louis to hold on to. He quickly rushed to Harry to hold him, “I’ve got him.”, the two lads letting go of Harry.

“Your legs are wobbly Louis,” Niall said worried as he watched Louis struggling to walk, holding half on Harry’s weight.

“Are not,” he believed but Niall was right. His legs were wobbly and he couldn’t hold onto Harry as his legs were giving in to the pressure. Luckily, Niall caught him before he fell to the floor.

Sadly, that sent Harry alone to the floor, hammering his head against the white sink on his way, his body sprawled dead on the cold floor.

 

**_~ to be continued ~_ **


	16. [Sleepwaking]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So it all continues....

_++_

_But you are not alone in this, as brothers we will stand and hold your hand ~ **Mumford & Sons**_

_++_

 

 

“POLICE, OPEN UP!”

The four lads had gone past their mild panic and anxiety attacks when Harry banged his head on the sink and carried him onto his bed.

And this is where they all were now, looking at Harry’s lifeless body, wondering if he was dead or not, on his bed.

“Who the hell is that?”

Zayn panics . “Shit, it’s the police!”

“No, shit Sherlock,” Louis says, rolling his eyes.

“THIS IS THE POLICE! IF YOU DON’T OPEN UP WE WILL KNOCK DOWN YOUR DOOR IN FIVE SECONDS!”

“What do we do?” Louis asks, holding Harry’s hand into his.

“This is the plan guys,” Liam says, his words coming out at the same time as his cognitive process. “Zayn and I will go to the door and answer the police-”

“FIVE SECONDS OR WE BREAK DOWN THE DOOR!”

Liam rushes through his sentence. “Niall get Harry’s phone and call King or Nick and tell him exactly what has just happened and Louis you watch over Harry. Go!”

Liam and Zayn sprint to the front door, Niall gushes around the room looking for Harry’s phone [which was under the bed] as Louis squeezed Harry’s cold fingers into his, silently praying to a god he doesn’t believe in.

“What’s King’s number?” Niall asks.

“Check his recent calls… pass the phone,” Louis says. Niall hands him the phone and presses two on the phone,

“He’s on speed dial?” Niall asks, more to himself.

_Hi Harry! What’s up man?_

“This is Louis actually,” Louis answers the phone. “Please help us!”

_What’s wrong?_

“It’s Harry,” Louis says, his voice cracking over the phone.

_Calm down Louis and tell me what’s wrong?_

“It’s Harry! He was crying because of Ed’s death and everything and he kept crying and crying and crying and we didn’t know what do to so we thought of giving Harry his pills… drugs in his bathroom place and we did-”

_How many?_

“Like ten, fifteen… I don’t know, I really don’t know King and now he’s unconscious or dead oh my gosh, I don’t even know,” Louis gushes through the phone, tears streaming down his face as he sees his best friend’s pale face, his hand never leaving Harry’s. “What do we do?”

_Why the fuck did you give him 15 pills?_

“He was crying and we were trying to stop him,” Niall says. King curses through the phone, his voice low from crying before.

_You almost killed him you bastard!_

“Help me please King!”

_Okay fine. What pills did you give him?_

“Blue ones, red ones, green ones, a bit of everything really,” Louis says, racking his brain. Zayn barges into the room and immediately shuts the door alarmingly loud, starling Niall and Louis who were waiting for King’s reply.

_Okay check his dressing table for hydrogen peroxide and then one Louis try and sit him up._

“Hydrogen peroxide?” Zayn asks, confused. “How’s that going to help?”

_Yeah, it must be on his bedside table._

“Found it,” Niall calls out, holding a translucent brown bottle as Louis holds Harry’s unconscious body upright, his head lolling to his clavicle.

“What next?” Louis asks.

_Pour the hydrogen peroxide into his mouth and punch him until he regains conscious._

“Punch him?” Louis asks.

_Yes but make sure you drown him in the hydrogen thing._

“Okay, how much?” Niall asks. “We don’t want an overdose again.”

_The entire thing!_

“You’re going to kill him!” Louis gushes, his voice high. Zayn hushes him, listening to King on the other end.

 _I know how much is left because he did this before_.

“Before?”

“Okay, all done then we punch him?” Niall says cutting Louis off.

_Yeah, but not WWE punching but hard enough._

“I’m not punching him,” Louis shakes his head looking at the other two lads.

“Fine I’ll do it,” Niall says.

“Be careful,” Zayn says and Niall thrusts three punches to Harry’s stomach, knocking him to life.

_Did it work?_

“Yeah, thanks King,” Zayn says

_And Louis?_

“Yeah?”

_If Harry had died, I would personally have skinned you alive for 45 days without food or drink and then I would stab your eye balls and feed your intestines to my sharks._

“You have sharks in your house?” Niall asks, Louis’ mouth hanging seven feet below his face.

 _Yeah I do_.

“Thanks King,” Zayn says cutting the phone.

“What’s going on?” Harry groans into Louis’ shoulder blades.

“Oh Hazza,” Louis tightly hugs his friend, Niall and Zayn joining in too. “I thought you were dead, you took so many pills and I didn’t know anything to help you and you died for like 15 minutes and we called-”

“You’re not making sense Louis,” Harry says, rubbing his temple. “Migraine.”

“You almost died,” Zayn says against his damp hair.

“What happened?” Harry asks. Before anyone can reply, Liam barges into the room, breathless and clutching his shirt.

“What did they say?” Zayn asks.

“They need Harry now,” Liam pants through his words.

“What’s going on?” Louis asks, Harry sitting on his lap, his head lazily laid on his chest.

“The police came by obviously,” Zayn says, letting Liam catch his breath. “And they were saying why we took long to answer the door and stuff then Liam told me to check on you guys because he heard a noise.”

“The police want Harry to go down to the police station,” Liam says, looking at Harry whose eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open.

“For what?” Niall asks, Louis rubbing Harry’s back and holding his fingers with his free hand. Three policemen barge into the room suddenly, their walkie talkies crackling through them.

“Officers,” Liam says.

“Liam Payne we asked you to bring Harry downstairs but we came to take him ourselves seeing as you took long,” Police Officer #3 says.

“Harry Styles, we need you to come to the station with us,” Police Officer #2 says.

“Why?” Zayn asks. Harry pulled down on Louis’ shirt from his backbone, scared the police were in the room.

“I’m scared Lou,” Harry whispers to Louis alone.

“It’s going to be okay, I promise,” Louis soothes, holding his hand firmly.

“For the murder of Ed Sheeran,” Liam says bluntly.

Harry slides off Louis’ lap and falling to the ground with a silent cry for help.


	17. [You COULD've Saved Me]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sheila Sheeran pays Harry a visit....

_++_

_And where did I go wrong? I lost a friend. Had I known how to save a life ~ **The Fray**_

_++_

_ _

 

“Why am I here officers?” Harry asks, composed after his episode at home.

The police arrested Harry this morning for being one of the suspects for the murder of his best friend, Edward Sheeran. The other four lads drove in Niall’s white range rover, following the police car heading to the station. The paparazzi had got wind of the police parked outside Louis and Harry’s apartment which meant that Harry’s arrest had gone viral, conveniently after the announcement of Ed’s death and King’s wild party of the year.

It was only a matter of time before people put two and two together.

Louis holds onto Harry’s hand beneath the table, calming Harry’s nerves and electrifying them at the same time, a little blush creeping across his cheeks.

“You’re one of the suspects for the murder of Edward Sheeran along with your friends, Kingston Ealey, Nicholas Grimshaw and Conor Maynard,” Detective #1 says.

Harry remains silent.

“What happened at Kingston’s party?”

“It was his party of the year,” Harry says, ignoring the massive migraine.

“We believe that hardcore drugs were involved that have been banned for years,” Detective #1 says. “Edward’s autopsy reads that he had consumed large quantities of these drugs which mixed with a concoction of alcohol killed him eventually.”

“He was a drug addict,” Harry says as cool as possible not to give anything away. To be honest he feels like breaking down and confessing everything that happened at the party but Louis’ hand firmly holding his beneath the table is keeping his mouth from vomiting the truth.

“We know but this is abnormally high for an addict, even him. So we believe that he was drugged by someone at the party,” Detective #2 says. “The people who are connected to drugs at Kingston’s party include you, am I right Mr Styles?”

“Yes,” he says. There was no two way about this. He couldn’t deny it.

“Did you give Edward Sheeran the drugs?”

“No.”

Detective #4 slams his hand on the table. “Did you or did you not give Edward the drugs?”

He lies. “I did not.”

“We know you have a lot of illegal drugs in your apartment because we could smell it in the car. We can easily have you arrested for that but lucky for you, Mr Styles, we’re investigating the murder of Edward Sheeran not which celebrity has the most illegal drugs in London,” Detective #3 leers.

“I did not give him the drugs,” Harry says, trying not to raise his voice. He was lying through his teeth but luckily for him these dimwitted detectives couldn’t sense the lie he kept repeating.

“Just because you’re in the biggest boy band in the world, the long arm of the Law can still catch you,” angry Detective #4 says.

“He’s not using his fame to get out of this mess,” Louis says, irritated that _he_ would think that.

“We’re going to be here for a long time Mr Styles if you keep lying to us,” Detective #2 says. “You just say the truth and you’ll be free.”

“By a long time, does that mean he’s arrested?” Louis asks.

“Technically no,” Detective #1 shakes his head. “We just brought you in for questioning.”

“Well, you don’t have sufficient evidence constituting probable warrant for my arrest-”

Detective #4 smirks, “Not yet, Mr Styles.”

“Then I believe I am free to go,” Harry says, standing up. The detectives eyes fall to where Harry’s fingers intertwined with Louis’ but he could care less, it was the only thing keeping him moving, the only thing keeping him slipping from reality.

They both walked out very fast, meeting Niall, Zayn and Liam outside the room. Harry looks around hoping to find his other friends but none of them were here. He then remembers the last time he was here he was with Ed, his closest friend that he is proud to call a brother.

“What happened?” Zayn asks, as Niall hugs Harry after Liam. “You’ve been in there for 25 minutes.”

“They were just asking questions but they don’t have evidence he killed Ed,” Louis says.

“That’s it, right?” Niall asks looking at everyone in the circle.

Harry shakes his head. “No, they’ll be back and knowing the police, they’re going to be feeding the media with lies about my arrest.”

“Let’s just go home and relax and try and forget what happened this morning,” Louis says and they all agree. The plan is laid: they drive back to Louis’ and Harry’s apartment, Louis takes Harry upstairs to calm him down and change into sweatpants and rock band shirts, Liam squats in front of the flat screen in the TV room to pick a movie, Zayn gets the snacks and a full bottle of champagne for them and Niall stuffs the room with pillows and blankies, spraying something sweet in the air.

Harry curls up against Louis, his head smooth on his chest, Louis wrapping as much as he could of himself around him. Niall has his feet sprawled over Liam’s legs, a bowl of caramel popcorn lying in between them and Zayn, with the champagne bottle, props himself near Liam and presses play to _So Undercover_.

“This movie is weird,” Niall says, 10 minutes into the movie.

“Totes,” Zayn says with in a white-girl voice.

“Who picked this movie?” Louis asks. They all silently point at Harry who was curled in a ball against Louis’ body.

“Kelly Osbourne is hot,” Liam smiles, 38 minutes into the movie.

“Amen to that,” Harry says batting his eyelashes at Louis.

“Isn’t she lovely?” Louis says and Harry smiles extra big because that was the song he sang for X Factor in 2010.

“She is,” Niall agrees. “So is Cotton.”

“She’s a dumb fuck,” Louis says.

“But she’s hot,” Niall stresses and they fall into silence again.

“She’s a Chemistry major?” Zayn gushes out, spraying his drink across the floor.

“She’s hot and smart,” Niall smiles stuffing his mouth Oreos. “Me like her.”

“I like to sex it up too,” Zayn smirks at the scene where Brooke takes Nicholas to her bedroom.

“You always do,” Liam rolls his eyes.

“Aren’t you the romantic?” Niall asks sarcastically, sipping champagne from a coffee cup.

“Yes in fact I am because it always works with Perrie,” Zayn says.

The three of them continue arguing about ‘sexing’ it up as Louis turns his attention to Harry, speaking in a low tone that only he can hear.

“Are you okay?”

He nods against his chest, his eyes heavy with sleep.

“Do you want to go to bed?” Louis asks.

“I’m fine here,” he whispers. “My throat feels dry.”

“Water?”

“Stronger,” Harry says. Louis leans forward, arching his body over Harry to the table and holding a red cup full of a bitter drink. He leans back down to the couch, pulling Harry closer against his chest. He holds put the cup for him and he leans forward, his rosy lips wrapping around the cup and sipping the bitter taste of spirit.

“I don’t know how you can take this?”

“Easy peasy,” he says, gulping the last drop.

 

***MARIMBA RINGTONE***

 

“Hello?” Harry answers. “Lana?... Yeah I’m fine, hopefully I’ll get better… why are you crying?... talk slowly… what happened?” – he shifts off Louis and walks out the room – “…are you sure?”

“He sounds sad,” Louis groans.

“The cop guy is the bad guy?” Zayn asks, watching the movie.

“I thought it was… actually I really didn’t know who it could be,” Liam says, scratching his head.

“It should’ve been anyone but not him,” Zayn says.

 

***MARIMBA RINGTONE***

 

“Hey babe,” Louis answers the phone to Eleanor, his long-term girlfriend.

_Hey babe, how are you?_

“I’m awesome, just watching _So Undercover_ ,” he says, shutting out Niall’s comment about how hot Cotton was.

_The one with Miley Cyrus when she had hair?_

“She has hair now but yes, the very one,” Louis says.

_How’s Harry holding up? I’ve just seen the news right now._

“He’s not talking about it.”

_Rumor has it he went to jail and was sentenced to ten years._

“He wasn’t arrested just taken in for questioning, that’s all.”

_Oh of course! He would never kill Ed. It’s going to be so weird, no Ed Sheeran anymore... his albums, his concert with Taylor Swift!_

“I know.”

_Anyway I was calling to tell you something, it’s about the pregnancy kit you found in Harry’s room…_

“What about it?” Louis asks, blocking his ear with his forefinger after Niall’s incessant screaming. “What did you find?”

_After that night I realized that there was something wrong. Despite Harry being a womanizer, he’s careful not to leave tracks behind like getting girls pregnant on the second date._

“True,” Louis says realization hitting him.

“I told you she was smart,” Niall shouts.

“She put too much of whatever in the pepper spray,” Liam says.

“Shush guys,” Louis hushes them. Niall presses the pause button for Eleanor to hear him clearly. “So if Lana isn’t pregnant then what did we find?”

_It wasn’t a pregnancy kit most definitely-_

“No shit Sherlock,” Louis says.

_What the fuck Lou?_

Louis sighs. “El, you’re being dim right now, how much Starbucks have you drank?”

_Shut up Tommo! Anyway, it was a kit for checking STIs_

“Sexually Transmitted Infections?” Louis asks, grabbing the attention of the three other boys. “How… I don’t get it.”

_He was testing himself for STIs Louis. Harry has an STD._

Louis gasps. “Holy Mother of Jehovah Witnesses! How? Which one?”

“What the hell Louis,” Zayn says, wriggling his eyebrows.

_Jehovah Witnesses?_

“Continue!”

_You told me that you found some prescription drugs._

“He has lots of drugs, I probably found the same pills he pops.”

_Nah, I think this time they were legit pills from the doctor for his STI. I did some research on the drug you found and it’s for curing three STIs._

“What are they?”

_Chlamydia, syphilis and gonorrhea. Harry has one of them._

Louis’ eyes almost drop out of his skull. “Those are many STIs! But why just those three?”

_Because they’re the only curable STIs in the entire world. The others like herpes and HPV are not._

“I would say he’s lucky that he has one of those but he’s really not,” Louis shakes his head.

_And that’s not all._

“What? There’s more?” Louis asks, already shocked Harry – his Harry – had an STD.

 _I know the STD he has, it’s gonorrhea_.

“Harry has gonorrhea?”

“Harry has gonorrhea?” Zayn asks.

“Since when?” Niall wonders.

_There’s more._

Louis groans. His heart beats faster, his palm sweaty against his iPhone. “What more now El?”

_He’s HIV positive too._

“El, you’re making shit up,” Louis breathes.

_I’m not. My roommate Alana is doing Pharmacy as her minor and she told me this stuff. She thought I was talking about you and I had to tell her it’s not you a thousand times before she went to the media and told them that you had-_

“Calm down El, I believe you,” Louis says wondering how on earth Harry was a humdrum to thousands of STDs. When did he get them? Or the proper question is _where_ did he get them? Well, he is a womanizer, bringing blond women every other week after his break up with Taylor Swift [is that his way of moving on from his break-up?] but thankfully it stopped since he started dating Lana Del Ray.

Hold up.

Does Lana have gonorrhea as well? Is she HIV positive too? Did Harry give it to her?

“Bye El, I really gotta go,” Louis says and after hearing her say, “I love you” he cuts the phone.

“What?” Liam asks, all six eyes gazing at him from the dark. In that moment, sullen Harry emerges into the room and Louis shakes his head, saying they’ll talk about it later. Harry snuggles into Louis’ body, his arms around his warm waist.

“Do you want to sleep on your bed?” Louis asks, as soon as Harry closes his eyes.

“M’fine here,” he says. “Keep watching the movie it’s fine.”

Louis tries to protest, “No-” but his mate interrupts.

“M’serious Louis,” he says hitting his chest lightly but he was weak from the past week’s events that thoroughly exhausted his mind, spirit and body.

“I think we should leave,” Zayn says, Louis weakly smiling at him.

“Why are we…OW! Whatcha do that for?” Niall groans when Liam kicks him on his hips. Liam gives him the ‘We have to give them privacy, let’s leave now’ look. “Oh I mean, yeah, we should really go. I have to finish writing my song _Don’t forgot where you belong_.”

“I thought you finished it,” Liam wonders, wearing his leather jacket.

“Nah, was told to change the bridge,” Niall says, carrying the bowl of Oreos. “Thanks.”

“Of course, McNialler,” Liam shakes his head, wrapping his arm around his shoulders as they both walked out.

“It’s fine, typical Niall anyway,” Louis laughs.

“We’ll see you guys tomorrow, yeah?” Zayn says, leaning down to give Harry a hug.

“Bye guys,” Louis waves and they faintly hear the door shut. “C’mon, let’s go to sleep.”

“It’s only 7PM-”

“Hello.”

They both turn to face an elderly, ginger stout woman dressed to the nines in complete black, a sort of morbid look, standing erect in their TV room. Harry slightly squints his eyes and sees it is Ed’s mother, Sheila Sheeran.

“Hello Mrs Sheeran,” Harry greets, getting off Louis’ lap and bending down slightly to hug her tightly, the windy winds of London radiating through her to his body. “Such a pleasure.”

She shrugs. “Meh.” She removed her pack of Dunhill cigarettes and lit one up, setting herself comfortable in the warm chair where Liam had previously sat on. Louis feels like the odd one out so he walks out quietly, Mrs Sheeran not noticing but Harry’s eyes leave Mrs Sheeran and follow the love of his life’s butt wiggle out of the room. He smiles that even as sad as his heart is, Louis can make him forget all the sorrow he carries and make him happy-smile.

“You didn’t come for the requiem mass?” she notes, snapping him from his admiration.

“I know,” he says fiddling with his thumbs.

“He would have loved it if you came. Kingston, Nicholas and Conor were there,” she says. “Scotch please.”

“Shelf,” he points. “I wasn’t in the right state of mind to visit him. How are the investigations going?”

“Terrible,” she says, shaking her glass of scotch, ice clinking against the glass. “I know they’re lying to me every day saying they’re close to catching his killer but I know they’re not. They are completely clueless about who drugged him at Kingston’s party but of course they can’t tell me this” – she sips her drink – “because ‘I’m the mother.”

“They’re doing their best,” he says, wishing Louis was here to hold his hand. He felt like his mind was slowing slipping from reality, stuck in his daydream of floating like a cloud. _Why did he die?_

“So I’m going to make this quite frank, what happened to my little boy?”

“Nothing.”

“He fucking died Harry Styles,” she says in a calm voice but her hands are gripping the arm rest tightly. “You don’t have the right to say “nothing” happened.”

“It was just harmless fun, Sheila,” he says. “King found these drugs that have been banned for almost 50 years like in the movie _21 Jump Street_ and he took some of them but the police suspect he took more than we gave him.”

“What’s _21 Jump Street_?”

“It’s a movie.”

“And what do you mean more than you gave him?”

“We each took two before the party but the police found large doses of the drug in his system as if he had taken 15. I think Ed secretly took more when we weren’t with him.”

She squints her eyes, her mouth crunching up. “Why didn’t you stop him? You know he’s a drug addict!”

He is startled when the calm, ginger woman throws her glass across the room, inches from his face. Louis rushes into the room [thank goodness, Harry thinks] and looks at the two figures in the room.

“Is everything okay?”

“Your friend here knows my son is a drug addict but let him overdose on stupid banned drugs,” she says, her mouth frothing.

“To be honest, he was already an addict so you know the saying, live by the sword, die by the sword,” Louis says.

“I didn’t kill him Sheila,” Harry says, tears flowing silently down his cheek. Louis wipes them with his thumb, straddling the boy onto his lap his warmth spreading warm, cuddly tingles to Harry whose heart smiles for the second time that day.

She eyes both of them silently, in their position and continues.

“I know you didn’t because as Louis said, he had it coming but I’m mad you weren’t looking out for him,” she says, finally calm, another drink in her gloved fingers. “He promised me he had stopped doing drugs.”

“No he didn’t,” Louis says, remembering the times he would come home after a date with Eleanor and find Ed, Harry, Nick and King rolling their bodies on the floor, high on drugs, booze and smoke. “I think he became worse.”

“He refused to go for rehab, he refused every help I offered him,” she says. “I didn’t want him to join the music industry because his drug problem would only get worse but what mother would I be if I stopped my son from reaching the skies, right? So I let him go. Who knew that meant letting him die slowly?” She buries her face in her hands, stifling her cries but her shoulders kept jiggling below her black, Chanel trench coat.

“He was already dying,” Harry says weakly.

“Why didn’t you save him?” she says, more of a plea than a question. And then adds, “Harry.”

“I don’t know how to save a life.”


	18. [Seven Devils]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are not looking good with the return of Mr X....

_++_

_Seven devils all around you; seven devils in your house. See I was dead when I woke up this morning and I'll be dead before the day is done_ _~ **Florence & The Machine**_

_++_

_ _

 

“It’s a beautiful day, innit it?” Louis asks driving in his navy blue Range Rover Vogue to the London Peace Keeper Cemetery, Harry seats quietly in the passenger seat, white flowers on his lap.

“Mmh,” he hums.

After Sheila Sheeran had left, Louis and Harry along with the other three lads spent every waking moment together, whether it was ice-skating, hiring out an entire theme park just for themselves [and stuffing Niall’s stomach with cotton candy], watching all eight of the Harry Potter movies because as Liam says, “It’s better on Blu-Ray” and it really is. In all this time, the mention of Ed Sheeran was minimal as Harry refused to talk about him nor did his other friends [King hung up the moment Zayn said his name] but as Harry kept reassuring them that he is “fine”.

Louis heard him crying several times at 2AM and he would rush in to find a hot, sweaty body ripping off the sheets around him, tears staining his red eyes and cheeks from his nightmares, crying that he couldn’t save his best mate. He would then climb into his own warm bed, along with Harry since his was wet from tears and sweat, and hold him tightly against his body, his nightmares ending for the night. That was the trend for the last two weeks, and in those two weeks, Ed’s funeral had come ad passed with Harry sobbing the entire day on Wednesday when Ed’s body was laid six feet underneath.

Six feet.

“I’m glad you agreed to this,” Louis says.

He had convinced Harry that he should say a proper goodbye to Ed, his best friend because to say the least, he skipped the requiem mass and his funeral, the least he could do was pay him a visit. And surprisingly, he agreed.

“You practically threw me out of bed,” Harry says smiling at the Doncaster boy, squeezing the butt of his cigarette.

He parks the car outside the funeral gates, thankful the paparazzi are not here which has been a nightmare for the last week with them asking “Where is Harry?” and “Why didn’t Harry attend his best friend’s funeral?”. There were trends on Twitter as well asking for Harry like #HarryATTENDEdsFuneral, #WhereIsHarry, #Deadstagram, #HarrysCurlsAreOverLikeHisBFF and some Sheerios wishing it was Harry who had died not their idol, Ed.

“It’s weird that they both died at the same time,” Harry says.

“Who?” Louis asks, following Harry to Ed’s tombstone across the cemetery.

“Ellie Goulding.”

The investigations of Ellie Goulding’s murder continued, the police having found fresh evidence that a hit man was in fact hired to kill her. This, of course, sent shivers down Harry’s spine because the truth could not be any further from the police but as King once warned him, “Deny deny deny” but all he hears is, “Lie lie lie”.

“Don’t think about that today Haz,” Louis says, linking their hands together. “Just pay your respects, yeah? And we’ll get ice-cream afterwards.”

“I haven’t heard from Nick or the others,” Harry says, passing lots of tombstones. “The dead can never be full right?”

“I’m sure they’re busy,” he says, also looking at the different headstones they were passing, occasionally reading what was written on them. They reach Ed’s grave, finding the three other lads in a mournful state.

“Hey guys,” Harry says and they smile weakly. “I’ll see you later.”

“Sure, I’ll pick you up,” Louis says, hugging him tightly. He whispers to him, “I love you Haz.”

His heart doubles in size. “I love you too Boobear.”

He watches Louis’ body walk out of the gate and he then turns his attention to Ed’s grave, his epitaph reading:

_It’s too cold for angels to fly, but you managed to._

“What happened?” Harry asks, the rest knowing what he was asking.

“I was being monitored by the police so I was under house arrest by my body guard,” King says.

“My work schedule is crazy packed nowadays,” Nick shrugs. “And I have that thing with my mom.”

“I had to fly out to America for promotion,” Conor says. “But we all came for his funeral but you didn’t. Why?”

“I really don’t know,” Harry shrugs, his hand gripping the flowers tightly. The all stand in silence, each of them thinking of their passed friend with fond memories and perhaps the last time they spent with him, his last seconds. For a nanosecond, his mother passed his thoughts. What if she suddenly died one Thursday afternoon? What then? All the bitterness he held against her, all the accusations he blamed her for, all the hostility… was it worth it? Is it worth it? _Yes_ , he thinks defensively, _she killed my dad, how do you forgive a murderer?_

Whether it was fate or destiny or whatever Harry believes in, it was strange that all this friends at this moment in time, met with their other friend, the dead one. “I’m happy I found y’all here.”

“Same,” Nick smiles, the rest agreeing.

“Listen guys,” King says. “We should do something for Ed, like a tribute.”

“What are you thinking of?” Conor asks, sitting like a pretzel to the left of his tombstone.

“I think we should stop our addictions,” King says. The three lads snort, wondering if King was out of his mind. “Think about it lads. We remember zilch from my party. Heck, I don’t remember hiring a clown and five DJs to my party, I don’t remember hiring out three limos to take people home nor do I remember seeing Ed take more than two of those drugs.”

“None of us do,” Harry says.

“Look how fucked up we are,” King says, glancing at the six eyes watching him wearyingly. “One of us is scared of coming out of the closet and won’t do anything about it so they resort to drugs, alcohol and seeing a therapist for 1 and a half years which has helped jack-”

“She’s helping a bit,” Harry says. But in all honesty, she actually was not helping him deal with _his monsters_. Since the day Louis publicly announced Elewhore as his girlfriend, he signed up with Dr Hitsugaya to initially calm his anger towards her but he got worse. He rolled into drugs, thanks to Ed, but that wasn’t enough, he rolled into alcohol, thanks to King and in the middle of all of that, he was battling his sexuality, a flaming homosexual as he thought of it, which at times he found peace with Nick but that was only when they fucked. The rest of the time, he wanted to bleed the gay out.

When he looked at it, he was three of his best friends rolled into one.

“Bullshit and you know it,” King says. He found a loose stone across Ed’s tombstone and sat on it, Nick leaning a little to Harry’s right side. “And you Nick, what the actual hell? You’re falling for Harry making it harder for him to come out of the closet, making it harder for me to quit drinking and basically hard for us to quit our addictions because you somehow make it seem like it’s alright.”

“It’s not right to be a hanger in a closet,” Nick says.

“You’re in love with Harry-”

“I’m not,” he blushes.

“You love me?” Harry asks. He knew Nick had a crush on him but that was it. He didn’t know he was _in love_ with him.

“No!” he says, a little too quickly and forcefully.

“Lies,” Conor says. “I’m new in this clique of yours and I can see it.”

King continues, gazing up at his two standing friends. “Haven’t you noticed Harry that all you guys do is have one-night stands, and most of them are done when you’re drunk or high? Don’t you question what this does to Nick? I mean, for you it’s blowing off steam or whatever and it’s all fun and games but for Nick? It’s-”

Conor interrupts. “Imagine you’re Louis and Nick is you.”

“What?” Harry asks.

“Nick is you in real life and you’re Louis Tomlinson, the love of your life. Okay? The same way you love Louis is the same way Nick loves you, probably even more but I highly doubt it.”

He finally understood how much Nick was _in love_ with him.

“Somewhere along the late night drinks, visits to club bathrooms, blowjob here and there and a one-night stand twice, I fell for you,” Nick says quietly.

“It was all fun and games,” Harry says looking at everyone.

“People fall in love because of these fun and games, as you say,” Conor says.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know,” Harry says, looking at Nick. He lifts his chin with his forefinger and gently kisses him down on his soft, weak lips.

“And I always loved your lips the most,” Nick whispers against Harry’s lips.

“Before this becomes a snogging fest, I was saying something about paying a tribute to Ed in our own way.”

“What’s that?” Harry asks. He reaches for his pocket and picks out his cigarette packet. He lights it up, puffing out the first smoke like the superstar that he is.

“We should be sensible with our lives. I will quit drugs and so will Nick, you Harry will quit smoking and drugs and Conor… you and women,” King says, wondering what ‘fucking issue’ he has.

“I’m actually good with women,” he says.

“Oh really?” Nick questions. “How about that song, uh, _can’t say no_?”

“They’re just songs,” Conor shrugs. “Some of them are anyway. Others are about my ex-girlfriend.”

“Before I forget what I was saying, we should quit our addictions for Ed. We should be sensible people in society. Out of all us, Harry is the one who has to be the most sensible one,” King says, watching Harry inhale his stick faster than a normal smoker would. It was over before he could blink and he watches him take out another, this time two cigarettes.

“Fuck that,” Harry says, releasing a swag of smoke. “They wanted a villain, I gave them a villain.”

Sighing King continues, knowing Harry will be stubborn about this whole villain image he has. “We need to make this right and for a start” – he stands up – “I will quit my drug dealing trade.”

“Alright,” Nick says feeling the momentum of being sensible. Being sensible for his best friend. “I will be serious with my new job and quit drinking.”

“I will get over my ex-girlfriend,” Conor says, the rest of the lads eye him, urging him to explain what he meant by moving on. “I’m literally the female version of Taylor Swift.”

They all, “Ah” and eye the youngest of them all, awaiting his response.

“I will stop being a hanger in the closet,” Harry says, firmly.

“Are you sure? That’s a big step,” Nick says.

“Why don’t you start with something smaller like smoking?” King asks and Harry blows in his face. “Fuck you!”

He giggles. “I have a plan I’m working on and I must come out for the plan to actually work.”

“What is this plan?” Conor asks.

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask you, Caroline told me about It,” Nick says. “She told me she was scared you were going to do something stupid like run away, come out or worse, kill yourself.”

“I’m already killing myself,” Harry says waving his cancer wand in the air. “But it’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while ever since my last session with Dr Hitsugaya.”

“What did she tell you?” King asks. King was probably the only one who truly wanted to know how Harry was doing with his therapy sessions, what advice she was giving and whatnot, anything to make sure his friend was alright. But here he was, saying he had a secret plan he’s been blotching and would not even tell them… something was not right.

“Not to be numb,” he says, throwing his cigarette butt on the ground among dry, olive leaves.

“So what’s the plan?” Conor asks after Harry did not explain further with the whole eerie words of, “Not to be numb.”

He takes out his fourth cigarette, lights it up, and puffs out a large chunk of it looking like a 1970 movie star, and says nothing.

 

**+**

“I’m home,” Harry calls out, walking through the door to their apartment. He presses ‘Tweet’ to his tweet dedication to his late best friend, Ed:

**_Harry Styles_ ** _@Harry_Styles 4:37PM_

_A little party did kill somebody. R.I.P to my best friend @edsheeran <3 .xx_

 

“Hey,” Niall greets him after throwing his shoes by the door and walking into the living room. Niall was seated on the couch, watching the Liverpool vs. Chelsea game.

“You’re watching rugby?” Harry asks, dumping his phone on the leather seat and searching for alcohol in the apartment. “Where’s Louis?”

“It’s football and Louis went to buy groceries,” Niall says with his mouth full.

From the kitchen Harry calls out, “You finished the food? And I know you’re lying, where is Louis really?”

“He went to see Eleanor,” Niall says. Harry comes in, bottle in one hand, and stretches his feet on the spot near his Irish mate. “It’s not me.”

“Not me what?” he asks.

“I didn’t break in to your apartment and steal your diary, it wasn’t me and I don’t know what else to say for you to believe me,” Niall says, gazing at Harry intently.

“I stopped thinking about that,” Harry lies. In fact, it’s all he could ever think about, day in day out since the day Niall broke into their apartment. Allegedly.

“Then why do you still think I did it?”

“I don’t.”

“Liar.”

“Okay listen, there were some really important stuff in my diary and if someone ever found it, they could use it against me,” he says.

“Like what?”

“Bad stuff.”

“Like what?” Niall insists.

 

***DING DONG***

 

***MARIMBA RINGTONE***

 

“Hello,” Harry anwers. “King? What? Slow down, you’re talking really fast… where are you?... you’re here?”

Harry stands up and walks to the door and sees a panting King, behind him a tomato-faced Conor who is gasping like a donkey.

“What happened?” Harry asks.

“Connect your TV to your phone,” King says urgently. “Now!”

“Why?”

“Dammit Harry, just do it,” King says, making his way to the kitchen, grunting and heaving for air.

“Were you guys on a treadmill?” Niall asks.

“Yeah, we came running on our treadmills to Harry’s place because that’s how treadmills work,” King says sarcastically as Harry connects his phone to his TV and turning on the WiFi.

“No need to be sarcastic,” Niall rolls his eyes.

“Tell me what’s happening,” Harry says, his blood pressure rising by the suspense. ”Tell me right now.”

“Is the TV on?... Oh good,” King says, logging onto Twitter using Harry’s account.

“What’s happening?” Niall asks. “How does he know your password?”

“Just know Harry is in deep shit if we don’t think fast,” Conor says.

“Okay, so what deep shit is Harry in?” Niall asks.

And the TV screen flashes Harry’s timeline, showing who was on his timeline, the number of DMs he has, a small dot above his ‘Notifications’ and the trends…

“Are those the trends?” Niall asks. “They’re horrible.”

“Why is #LeakHarrysSecrets trending?” Harry asks.

“And #HarryWillPayForEdsSins?” Niall questions.

“And ‘Entry 012’?” Conor reads off the TV screen. “What’s that?”

Harry quotes another worldwide trend. “’The truth about Harry’… What are these?”

“Remember how your diary was stolen by Niall?” King says.

Niall speaks up quickly, eyeing King angrily. “I didn’t-”

“He didn’t steal it,” Harry says. King looks at Harry, then at Niall then at Harry, quickly at Conor and then back at Harry, confused.

“So whoever stole your diary, read everything inside it, the entire truth, especially the one you hid from the entire world, whoever has your diary knows this. And get this, Mr X is back.”

“Mr X? The guy who, supposedly, wanted to kill us at Madison Square Garden some time back in-?” Harry asks.

“The very one.”

“What does he want?” Niall asks. “To kill us again?”

“Apparently you this time, not the whole band but not to kill you. He… She ... it has your diary and they plan on leaking every entry of your diary until they reach your deepest, darkest secret,” King says, emphasizing on his last phrase for Harry to get a hint. He tips his head back and takes a gulp of good, old, cold beer.

His eyes flash open in realization what King was slowly and forcefully hinting at. The entire world would know he’s gay!

“Shit,” Harry curses. “We have to stop him.”

“What is it?” Niall asks, feeling like the odd one out in the room. “Why are you so scared?”

“Look at your mentions Harry!” Conor notices and they refocus their attention of Harry’s Twitter. Fans, Directioners, haters, famous people, youtubers, normal people, viners, and even other fans in other fandoms were all alerting Harry about Mr X and how he had his diary and would leak everything in it for all to see. And just like that, everyone forgot about Ed Sheeran, barely three weeks after his death.

Humans.

 

**_Louis Tomlinson_ ** _@Louis_Tomlinson 43 min ago_

_@Harry_Styles WHATS GOING ON????_

**_Zayn Malik_ ** _@zaynmalik1D 24 min_

_@ Harry_Styles what’s going on with Mr X?_

**_Liam Payne_ ** _@Real_Liam_Payne 2min ago_

_@Harry_Styles Whaaat’s happeeeniing Haz???_

_“_ Least they care for once,” Harry says.

“They always did Haz. You just pushed them away,” Niall says, rubbing his back. “Let’s go to Mr X’s Twitter account.”

Harry navigates through his iPhone and searches for Mr X’s Twitter account: @mrX. They found it within seconds; his profile picture was complete black with a red X through it – “How original,” King rolls his eyes . He already has 987, 424 followers and following only one person, Harry and had 56 tweets already, all of them tagging Harry in it, whether with his twitter handle or with a hash tag or just plain mentioning him, it was there. And to top it off, he was already verified!

“How is he verified?” Harry asks.

“Shit,” Niall curses.

“What?” King asks, his mind on the TV screen reading the threatening tweets to Harry about his diary.

“Management is going to find out about this and they’re going to crazy murder you in your sleep,” Niall says.

“Oh that’s it?” Conor wonders, sighing.

“It’s serious dude,” Niall says, irritated by the fact that King and Conor were not getting the magnitude of this. Harry can literally be kicked out of the band. Yes, Harry signed a contract and if Harry is out of the band it’s not really ‘One Direction’ but this, this was good enough a reason to kick him out, whether Harry sued or protested, he would lose. He was fighting a losing battle!

“It’s fine Niall,” Harry says.

Niall protests. “But-”

“Leave it Niall,” Harry hisses. “We need to stop Mr X then worry about Modest! later. We should probably read his tweets about the diary and see what he really wants.” And reading, they do, tweet after tweet from the beginning till right now.

 

**_THE MR X_ ** _@mrX 1hour ago_

_Guess what bitches, I’m back, tell a friend!_

**_THE MR X_ ** _@mrX 1 hour ago_

_You won’t guess what I got this fine Friday morning, Harry’s diary_ pic.twitter.com/d1GCdPY5Pm! _And it’s all mine! The #OneAndOnly is mine!_

**_THE MR X_ ** _@mrX 45 min ago_

_But don’t you all want to know who Harry really is? What he actually is as a person? Is he really the womanizer you think he is? Does he really like being in 1D? Is he really male?_

“What the fuck?” King asks.

“Just keep reading,” Harry says weakly, his heart rate going over 120/70. Probably at 500/12 if that were possible.

 

**_THE MR X_ ** _@mrX 45 min ago_

_So here’s what I’m going to do, I will post ALL HIS DIRTY SECRETS to the world and trust me guys, what you’ll read will change your mind FOREVER about who Harry really is! I was shocked too because you know > _

**_THE MR X_ ** _@mrX 44 min ago_

> _Harry being my friend I thought I knew the real him but his diary says otherwise. And the good part is, you all get to share my experience with me! XO_

 

“Explains why #LeakHarrysSecrets was trending,” Conor notes.

 

**_THE MR X_ ** _@mrX 17 min ago_

_So here’s the plan, tonight I will post a diary entry about his first official girlfriend, @cflack1, and what actually happened between their break-up >_

**_THE MR X_ ** _@mrX 5 min ago_

_But it’s not the break-up that will put your knickers in a twist but what THEY DID!! Trend #HarolineTruth in 30 countries for ENTRY 012! XO_

 

“Fuck my life,” Harry curses realizing the seriousness of Mr X. He posted a picture of ‘Entry 012’ on his diary so he knew Mr X wasn’t bluffing! But who cares about leaked pictures of his diary when the whole world will know what Caroline did to him!

“Finally we get to know what happened between you and the cougar,” Conor says and before he knows it, a fist high fives his face with the force of a hammer and he falls to the floor.

“This isn’t a fucking joke,” Harry growls.

“Listen,” King says. “What do we do now? Because we can’t wait for him to post it.”

“We can ask him to not post it,” Niall suggests. He looks at Conor lying on the floor and wonders why no one is helping him out [King is back at staring at the TV and Harry is gurgling down a bottle of… what is that?] and sits quietly on the couch.

“Oh yeah like that’s going to work,” King rolls his eyes wondering why his best friend was even in this stupid band.

“Tweet him!”

“Lemme try that,” Harry says.

 

**_Harry Styles_ ** _@Harry_Styles_

_Please lads, do not trend the_ _#HarolineTruth tag. It would mean a lot to me._

But being Harry Styles, the _#HarolineTruth_ is already trending worldwide including a top trend in six different countries: United States, Australia, Saudi Arabia, United Kingdom, South Africa and Brazil with more than 600, 000 retweets and 365, 002 favorites.

 

**_Harry Styles_ ** _@Harry_Styles_

_@mrX why are you doing this?_

**_THE MR X_ ** _@mrX_

_@Harry_Styles because I can #HarolineTruth =]_

“Ask him the time he’ll post the entry,” Niall says as Conor places an icepack on his cheek.

 

**_Harry Styles_ ** _@Harry_Styles_

_@mrX when are you posting Entry 012?_

**_THE MR X_ ** _@mrX_

_“@Harry_Styles: @mrX when are you posting Entry 012?” when #HarolineTruth trends in 30 countries._

**_1D UPDATES LIVE_ ** _@1dupdatesLIVE_

_@Harry_Styles @mrX #HarolineTruth is trending in 16 countries and worldwide too!!_

**_Harry Styles_ ** _@Harry_Styles_

_GAAH STOP TRENDING #HarolineTruth!!!!!_

“Why don’t people have a brain between their eyes?” Harry wonders angrily, smashing his gin bottle against the wall behind the TV. “Why are people so dim?”

“Harry calm down,” King says gently scrolling down Harry’s timeline.

Harry asks a bunch of rhetorical questions, his anger rising to the red side of the meter. “Don’t tell me to calm down! Do you know what’s happening? Do you have any idea?” He waits for a response but all he gets are stares from four eyes, the other two eyes are reading tweets on the TV. “No you don’t because this is not your life is jeopardy. My life right now is in the hands of whoever Mr X is and they literally control my life right now.”

“How?” Niall asks.

“Because my diary contains all my secrets. They contain everything and anything I could never tell you guys. Some of the things I wrote were hurtful and mean towards you guys” – he looks at Niall –“ and King and Nick and Ed knew what I wrote because they were there when I vented about training, singing, writing songs and whatnot. But now, Mr X is going to post things I’ve never told anyone. My relationship with Caroline, my mother, my father, my sister Georgia-“

“You have a sister other than Gemma?” Niall asks, his mouth dropping to the floor. “Since when?”

Ignoring him he continues. “My addictions with drugs and alcohol and whatever and… and… other stuff.”

“What other stuff?” Niall asks, still processing what Harry was telling him. This was all new to him, it was like he was looking at Harry naked, no, not like that. Bare is a better word. He was looking at Harry bare, brick by brick, his wall was falling down and he knew there was something behind those walls he was hiding. He was hiding the jackpot of all secrets. “What other stuff?” he asks again.

“Nothing,” Harry growls.

“Mate, if you tell him now we’ll move past this,” Conor says.

“You only know because you accidentally saw me and Nick kissing-”

A loud gasp emerged from a teenage boy’ lips, his mouth forming an ‘O’, his eyes wide open and stuck like that for literally 30 seconds.

“Shitballs!”

Shit, he forgot about Niall.


	19. [If This Isn't Love]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The squad, along with Niall, try and stop Mr X from posting Entry 012....

_++_

_My weakness I must finally show ~ **Mumford & Sons**_

_++_

_ _

 

“You kissed Nick?” he gushes rapidly. “You like Nick? When did you kiss him? Do you even like-So are you-OMG! When did you kiss- Does that make you gay? Does it? I can’t even! Are you gay Harry? “

“No,” he says weakly but Niall catches on, already processing in his mind that his best mate was gay. His Harry was gay! GAY! G.A.Y!

“So… how? Wait, is this what you’re sooo afraid of?” Niall wonders, still reeling over the fact that Harry practically came out of the closet. “Is it?”

“Yes… but there’re other stuff too,” Harry says. Niall ran to him, pinning him in between his arms in a hug, mumbling things like, “I love you even if you’re gay” and “It doesn’t matter if you’re gay” and “No wonder you wear skinny jeans!” The bigger picture was that he wasn’t a hanger in a closet anymore. He gazed at King and from the corner of his mouth he could see him smiling because he was proud his best friend finally came out to those who matter to him and also because the air out of him was being pushed out by Niall.

“You did it,” King mouths and Harry smiles because yes, it felt liberating to not be a hanger in the closet. Yes his heart was beating, his head was clouded and he felt his knees getting weak beneath him but generally he was brimming with smiles and glee.

“I’m so proud of you Hazza,” Niall gushes, gazing at his friend from an arm’s length.

“You’ve said that before,” Harry smiles.

“I don’t think I have. I’m so proud of you for coming out to me even though it was by accident,” Niall says, teary and all. “I’m so proud to call you my best friend and band mate all rolled into one. You’re like my older brother who I can trust. But don’t listen to what management are going ot say if you ever come out because I will always be here with you no matter what happens to you. And I love the fact that you’re gay.”

“You love me because I’m gay?”

“Yeah, I now have a gay best friend,” he cheers.

I roll my eyes. “We’re not going shopping if that’s what you think.”

“Does that mean Larry Stylinson is real?” Niall asks, his eyes wide open with curiosity.

“No,” Harry shakes his head, his happiness vanishing in a second. “No it’s not.”

“I’m so sorry,” Niall says. “Louis should love you more than Eleanor, I mean you’re better than she is. She’s just a famewhore!”

The three lads stare at Niall like he was a leech crawling up their arms. It was Harry who was staring the hardest at his band mate; Niall Horan does not like Eleanor? Elewhore to be specific?

“You don’t like Eleanor?” Harry asks.

“No, of course not,” Niall says like it was pretty obvious. “She’s just using Louis to get into Top Shop fashion shows, to get free expensive clothes… I actually know this because Louis once dragged me to help him carry her shopping bags and the cheapest thing was just above a thousand pounds!”

“Fame whore defo,” Conor says, snapping his fingers.

“I tried to tell him but he wouldn’t listen because he’s head over heels over her,” Niall says not noticing the falling heart of the curly-haired boy. “He keeps talking about her all the time. One time he talked about Psychology for years and how she failed her exams and how it’s really hard and how the lecturers don’t teach well in class... you’d think Louis was actually at Manchester University but no, it’s Eleanor. Did you know he paid for her and her friends concert tickets to see Justin Timberlake and Beyoncé?”

The shook their heads.

“It was pure nuts and I told him but, argh, he just said, ‘I love her Ni. I love her to the moon and back’,” he says disappointedly.

“Before this continues into a ‘Let’s bash Elewhore’ session can we continue on strategizing on stopping Mr X from tweeting your diary entry,” King says, noticing Harry was getting upset about hearing Eleanor escapades. “Or more like we should stop the Haroline trending in 30 countries.”

“It’s at 20 countries,” Conor says, scrolling his Blackberry screen. “Oh it’s trending in Iran, so 21 now.”

“Oh look, it’s Caroline,” King says, pointing at the TV.

**_Caroline Flack_ ** _@cflack1 2min ago_

_@Harry_Styles what entry is this about?_

**_Harry Styles_ ** _@Harry_Styles 24 sec ago_

_@cflack1 YOU OBVIOUSLY, WHO ELSE? >:(_

**_Caroline Flack_ ** _@cflack1 2min ago_

_@Harry_Styles you mean WHAT happened between us?_

**_Harry Styles_ ** _@Harry_Styles 24 sec ago_

_@cflack1 YES! WHAT ELSE WOULD IT BE?_

“Why are you mad at her?” King asks. “It’s not her fault.”

“What if she stole it?” Niall asks.

“Let’s actually see who stole the diary on that day because to be fair Harry I don’t think we can stop this,” Conor says in all honesty.

“Are you serious? We have to stop the trend right now!”

“I’m on Conor with this,” King says. “It’s beyond our control but we can stop him before he reaches the gay entry.”

“Let me just ask people stop the trend then we figure that out,” Harry says tiredly. In all honesty, he felt like he was living a dream, all of this was surreal. He didn’t know what was real anymore.

 

**_Harry Styles_ ** _@Harry_Styles 41 sec ago_

_PLEASE PLEASE STOP THE #HAROLINETRUTH TREND. PLEASE_

**_GOSSIP101_ ** _@gossip101 2 hours ago_

_Harry Styles’ secrets to be revealed soon!_

**_1D LIVE_ ** _@1Dupdaters 41min ago_

_Please guys, Harry doesn’t want us to trend HAROLINE TRUTH so let’s not trend. DON’T RT @mrX!!_

**_Jay Tomlinson_ ** _@Johannah_Darling 1 hour ago_

_Harry Styles is like a son to me and he doesn’t deserve this humiliation! @mrX you’re a coward!_

And soon enough, You’re A Coward began trending worldwide.

 

**_One Direction_ ** _@onedirection 45 min ago_

_@mrX you’re going to jail for infringement of privacy._

**_THE MR X_ ** _@mrX 2 sec ago_

_@Harry_Styles You can’t stop what the world wants to know! 26 countries and counting! #HAROLINETRUTH_

“Well at least Louis’ mom is on your side,” Niall shrugs.

“Yeah because I wanna shag his mother,” Harry rolls his eyes, squeezing the butt of his cigarette in the black ash tray.

They sit around the small dining table, with manila papers, multicolored sticky notes, all sorts of highlighters and other paraphernalia to figure out who stole Harry’s diary. King removes his stash of cocaine, laying it gently on the table because it was it’s worth in gold. Literally.

Alarmingly, Niall asks, “Is that coke?”

“Yeah,” King says, forming four lines of the white powder on the wood table. “Straw.”

“We don’t need straws,” Harry says reaching down his pocket and pulling out a 100 pound note. “We need money.” He passes it to King who rolls it up. He is the first to snot, and like oil through a pipe, he inhales it in a split second, clearing the table. Conor is next, he takes a sniff, banging the table with his right hand when the cocaine is through his nose. Harry’s line was purposely larger than the other two because he was much advanced in his addiction, probably as much as his late friend, Ed. He needed a larger chunk to feel something. Blocking his left nostril with his finger, he sniffed his entire line of coke, spanning his head back at the rush of frenzy through his body.

“It’s a new feeling every time,” Harry says.

“Signs of addiction,” Conor smiles.

“But it’s fucking true,” King says.

Much to Niall’s dismay he is watching everyone taking it, realizing it’s his turn next.

“Um,” he hesitates. “I-I don’t… I mean…”

“C’mon Niall, this stuff will help you think properly,” King says, holding out a 100 pound bill for him.

“I… I don… Should I… Ugh, maybe…,” he hesitates.

“It’s not that bad Niall,” Harry says. “Just try it, it’s good.”

“Won’t I go crazy?” Niall wonders, his hands itching for the straw. The cocaine on the table literally sparkles to his eyes, each white dot calling out to him, enticing him about its sweetness when mixed in blood.

“You’ll be a champion mate,” Conor woos him. And that’s it, he takes a quick sniff of the last mile line of cocaine on the table and he’s out!

“I’m going to hell for this,” Harry says looking at Niall.

“What a fucking idiot,” King shakes his head, his eyebrows wriggling.

“You know after two sniffs of coke, you’re an addict,” Harry says shaking his head.

Bopping his head up and down, King spells out every word. “What. A. Fucking. Idiot!”

“It’s good for him,” Conor shrugs. “Let’s start with the suspects of who could’ve broke into your apartment.” He pauses at the manila paper. “Why do you want to eliminate Modest!?”

“They know I’m gay so it can’t be them,” Harry replies reading the list of suspects they came up with.

“If it was me I would think it was definitely Jill,” Niall says [who somehow managed to sit on a chair after collapsing on the floor], putting a line through the name Jill on the green manila paper in a black pen, his hand wobbly.

“But wait, isn’t it weird that the person who broke into the apartment didn’t exactly break in as such,” Conor says deep in thought.

“What do you mean?” Harry asks and he sees Niall smiling like an idiot. “Why are you smiling?”

He grins. “I can’t believe you’re gay! And what was in that cocaine?”

Harry rolls his eyes looking at Conor for a response. “Your door didn’t look like someone was forcing their way in nor was the lock tampered with. In fact it looked like someone just entered the apartment and left.”

“I see where you’re coming from,” King says. “It’s as if the person who stole Harry’s diary has the key to the apartment meaning they know their way around the apartment!”

“Exactly,” Conor says. Harry’s mouth forms an ‘O’ at the thought. And now that he thinks about it, there was nothing wrong with the door, in fact it was perfectly fine, apart from the day King banged it down.

“So what you’re saying is whoever broke in then knew what they wanted from here and it’s someone who has the key to the apartment,” Harry says, making sense of everything.

“Then that leaves few people,” Niall says, looking at the forty-eight suspects they had earlier listed.

“Well right now, me, Niall and Conor are out because we’re here with you and clearly we don’t have access to your diary,” King says.

“Then who? Lana?” Harry asks not sure why she was the first person that came into her mind.

“Possibly, Niall write that down,” King says, Niall writing ‘NEW SUSPECTS’ on the top of a new, blue manila paper and number one is Lana Del Ray. “Should we put why they may want your diary?”

“Lana does have a few reasons but they’re my fault they happened,” Harry says. They look at him, expecting an answer, the only noise coming from a gurgle of whiskey down King’s throat. “I’m not telling you guys.”

“You’re secrets are spilling, might as well tell us now,” Conor says, King passing him the bottle.

“I have 3 STDs,” he says.

“What?” Niall asks surprised, passing the whiskey bottle to him without drinking.

“Well, I have gonorrhea, I don’t know how and Lana gave me chlamydia and I may or may not have HIV.”

“What’s ‘may or may not’?”

King interrupts. “You either do or don’t man.”

“It’s a long story but I’m on medication for gonorrhea and will start next week for chlamydia.”

“That’s ass backwards,” King says.

“Lana is in, then who else?”

“How about your band mates?”

“You think they would?” Niall asks hesitantly, gazing at Harry who was mirroring his reaction.

“Liam for example, there’re many reasons why he doesn’t like you,” Conor says. “I read on Reality News that he hates your guts!”

“Oh yea, he does,” Niall agrees. Thank goodness for coke, Harry thinks, because he spills the beans on his band mates. “He says you’re not serious with the band and if he was the manager at Modest! you would be out already.”

“So Liam,” King says, jotting Liam’s name. “Zayn?”

“Zayn,” Conor ponders. He looks at Niall for an answer.

“He doesn’t like your behavior with women. He thinks you disrespect them by dating them and dumping them like 3 weeks later, maximum four months.”

“That’s my issue not his,” Harry says, anger seeping through. “Who’s he to judge me? He cheated on Perrie and that pedo took him back!”

“Pedophile?” Conor cocks his eyebrows.

“Yeah, pedo,” Harry nods.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Conor says but everyone ignores him and they continue.

“So Zayn too,” King writes his name. “Louis?”

“Do you know Louis doesn’t actually hate you?” Niall says, his eyes glowing. “He’s always defending you whenever Liam says you should be kicked out of the band, when Zayn says you don’t respect women and when I think you’re depressed.”

“So Louis,” King says writing his name.

“No,” Harry shakes his head violently. “Absolutely not.”

“Just because he defends you doesn’t mean he wouldn’t want to know your secrets. For all we know he could take it to see if what Niall, Liam and Zayn are saying is true,” Conor points out.

“No.”

“He wasn’t in the apartment-”

“He was in Manchester with Elewhore,” Harry swings in his chair.

“But he-”

Harry stands up, the chair behind him falling off to the ground and smashing his fist on the table. He throws daggers at King specifically. “You will leave Louis out of this, okay King-fucking-Ston! I don’t care if you think he stole my diary, I don’t care if you” – he looks at Niall – “think he’s a shitty person for dating his girlfriend and I definitely don’t care what absolutely all of you think of him. If he turns out that he did actually steal my diary, that he is Mr X, I would do the dumbest thing ever.”

The one who wasn’t mentioned asks, “And what’s that?”

Before he replies, there is a beep from behind the four stoners and they turn to see a new DM to Harry.

“Who’s this now?” King groans.

Niall says slowly, reading the name. “It’s Raghdad.”

“Oh,” Harry lights up, the first ray of sunshine in his life today. “She’s my friend.”

 **@StylesMyFace:** MR X IS POSTING THE CHAPTER NOW!

 **@Harry_Styles:** Now?

 **@StylesMyFace:** YAH, YOU WEREN’T ONLINE SO I THOUGHT I SHOULD DM YOU IN CASE YOU WERE IGNORING YOUR MENTIONS.

 **@Harry_Styles:** I am now. Can I ask you something?

 **@StylesMyFace:** Sure, anything

He hesitates before typing, knowing that the other three people were starting at the screen waiting to see the question. To be honest, it’s times like these that you break down your walls, the rebel façade comes off and the acting stops. You become vulnerable to the people around you because you have nothing to hold onto, you have nothing left.

And right now, Harry had nothing.

 **@Harry_Styles:** Do people hate me?

 **@StylesMyFace:** They didn’t, they don’t and they never will. We love you Harry! Please ignore the hate!!!

And now he had something to hold onto. He had a family, even though he didn’t know them, he had a family spread across the world. It didn’t matter whether he knew them, whether he would ever meet them – if he would meet them – but all that matters is that they had his back. He realized this now. He constantly looked at the hate, the loathe comments that was the reason for building his walls to block the world, it was because of this hate. He was told to build a thick skin.

And a thick one he built.

**_Harry Styles_ ** _@Harry_Styles_

_#Drectioners, you’re all my friends and I can count on you for anything. I love you .xx_

**_THE MR X_ ** _@mrX_

_@Harry_Styles Isn’t that sweet? *gags* #HarolineTruth_

Minutes later, Mr X posts a tweet:

**_THE MR X_ ** _@mrX_

_I think it’s time, don’t you? It’s time for #HarolineTruth! It’s time to post #ENTRY012!_

And #ENTRY012 began to trend worldwide in an instant 30 seconds [which is a new record for Twitter].

And then the dreadful moment happens. The entry is posted by Mr X himself on Twitter for the whole, wide world to read. For the world to catch a glimpse of _the_ Harry Styles that glossed magazine spreads, mouths and fantasies of people this year.

 

**_THE MR X_ ** _@mrX_

_#HarolineTruth: #ENTRY012 – what really happened? Here it is. twitlonger.com/show/n_1s19m08_

King clicks on the Twitlonger link, the rest of the lads waiting for it to load in a new tab. They sit back on the couch, King with the remote, Conor with a bottle of whiskey King just passed, Harry with two cigarettes in between his index and middle finger and Niall who’s passed out on the floor from snorting another line of crack.

 

**_ENTRY 012:_ **

**_Sunday 19 th June, 2011_ **

_Dear Diary [or banana, whatever you like],_

_…_

_... Caroline and I then went to a party after the concert at the O2. We were with her sister and her sister’s boyfriend but somehow at the club we were 8 people, well in our clique, not the whole club my banana! It was crazy, they were all old and acting like teenagers, smoking and drinking alcohol like it was water. Then Caroline hands me a pink tablet, ‘Roofies’ she called it, and I asked her what it is but she shrugged saying it would make me loosen up and slipped in into my drink and told me to drink up and live a little. I did and right now with a massive headache, I probably shouldn’t have taken it. I stuck out like a sore thumb at the club because I wasn’t smoking or taking large chunks of alcohol (scotch tastes really bad, my banana!). I saw Caroline flirting with her sister’s boyfriend and it really made me mad because why the hell is she flirting with him and I’m right here?, so I decided to have fun as well. I put as many pills as I could into my hand and gushed them down with vodka and suddenly I felt like superman! I felt invincible!_

_Caroline finally stopped flirting with HIM and she started touching me and kissing me (she tasted awful) and I loved it. She finally loved me me me me ME and not HIM. Then she went further than what I was used to. She starts rubbing my dick with her hands, her hands shaking a bit (someone said it was the weed and vodka) and I tell her to stop but she continues. To say I was uncomfortable was an understatement but who cares, she left HIM and was in love with me! Later, she takes my hand and places it on her left boob, her mouth forming an O-shape. I pull it away but she keeps it there, her big hands over mine… and that’s all I remember, my banana, that’s all I remember from last night!_

_But shit, so I call her today and ask her about last night and guess what happens, she says we had sex. Sex banana, s.e.x! SHE TOOK MY VIRGINITY is what technically happened. She took my virginity and I didn’t even know it or feel it. I didn’t know I was having sex with her! Well, I feel tingly around my penis today morning but still, she took my virginity without my knowledge! SHE STOLE IT AWAY FROM ME AND I WANT IT BACK!!! I WASN’T READY! I DIDN’T WANT TO LOSE IT JUST YET. I WANTED TO WAIT FOR SOMEBODY SPECIAL, I yell at her. Then she yells back at me through the phone saying that I told her I loved her last night as we were having sex and it didn’t matter that she was 32 years and I was 17 because you know, true love doesn’t care about age. Then she says we should meet up tonight and do it all over again. Who goes clubbing on a Sunday anyway?_

_Any who, do I want to go? I really don’t know. One part of me says no because she had sex with me when I was drugged. She took my virginity without my knowledge. She fucked me hard and I don’t recall anything. On the other hand, she makes me feel safe, and it’s like I’m addicted to her love and I want more and more so I think I’ll meet up with her tonight. Of course I won’t tell anyone we’re meeting because nobody likes her, and by nobody I mean only Modest! likes her because I’m finally dating someone and putting an end to Larry Stylinson._

_Oh shit, Louis is back from Manchester, I have to go. I haven’t told him about last night, nor the boys and I don’t think I ever will. I can’t tell anybody. ANYBODY! But let me ask you something my banana, is this love? You know I don’t know the true definition of love because love can’t be defined but most importantly is that I’ve never had sex with anyone or had a real girlfriend [Felicity and Abigail don’t count!] but from what I see with Louis and Eleanor, I think it may be love. He holds her hand, he brushes her hair off her face when the wind blows it and carries her on his back when there’s a puddle on the path. But Caroline & I don’t do any of those things together… ever! So if I don’t do those things that Louis does to Eleanor with Caroline then that means I don’t love Caroline?_

_So, if this isn’t love between me and her, then tell me what it is we did last night?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine if Mr X still existed *shudders*


	20. Platform 15¾

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry goes to see his therapist, Dr Hitsugaya.

_++_

_Take my hand, show me the way. We are the children, that fell from grace ~ **Pierce the Veil**_

_++_

_ _

 

“Well, I would ask if you want a drink but I know the answer already,” Dr Hitsugaya said, laughing a little bit.

It was about time Harry went back to see his therapist and it felt like it had been years since he was sitting on the brown, leather chair last. I mean, it was March right? And now it’s just weeks before the start of their tour on 11th November.

Now that he thinks about it, so much has happened since he last saw her. Let’s see, his secrets are about to be spread out into the world because of Mr X, he got _more_ STIs than before [if that was even possible], he became what Dr Histugaya feared: numb. And that’s just the beginning; his drug addiction got worse and not forgetting his nose nowadays hurts when he breaths in because of snorting cocaine, he has a gorgeous girlfriend and a gorgeous non-existent boyfriend Louis. It’s amazing he’s still alive with all that’s happened in his life. Maybe he does need that drink.

The icing on the cake has to be the death of his best friend, Ed Sheeran. I mean, he was literally like his brother. Ed understood him, he could know where he was coming from, his struggles with the entertainment industry [especially when One Direction started], he would always count on Ed to lift his spirits and tell him to see the positive side.

“Whiskey,” he replied. He’s been to the bottom of every bottle, why not another?

She handed him the glass and sits across him, like all the sessions before. “Before I begin, I’m sorry for your loss with Edward Sheeran.”

“Thank you,” he said, gulping the entire drink at a go.

“I’m sure his death has really taken a toll on you. He was like a brother to you, always having your back, defending you in the media for your wrong doings and rebellious actions, offering you advice here and there of surviving in the entertainment industry…”

“He did,” he nodded.

“It’s perfectly normal that you didn’t attend his funeral nor his Requiem Mass. I mean, you weren’t in the right state of mind to attend because you fear you may have been the one to kill him. But I’ll echo the words of his mother Sheila, it wasn’t your fault. Whether you gave him the drug personally or not, it wasn’t your fault. He had it coming, sorry to say but it’s true. Live by the sword, die by the sword.”

“So the saying goes,” he said, taking a swig of the whiskey bottle. _Why is everyone saying that line nowadays?_

“Do you feel like he’s lucky?”

“How did you know?”

She explained; “You once told me about dying.” Had he really? “You said that Ed was finally free from everything and you envisioned yourself in his position because he was truly free. I have feeling that you don’t mean that you want to die.”

“I see your Masters in Psychology is working out for you.”

“Shut up,” she said. He wriggled his eyebrows at her because it’s the first time she’s said that… whether she was serious or not. “As I was saying, you crave freedom, not dying.”

“Oh?”

“I think you’re getting tired with singing in a band about stupid love songs that don’t mean a thing to you,” she said, Harry listening intently. It’s one of those moments in your life when you listen to pieces of advices and see if they suit your life. Those moments when you listen with your entire heart to see the next 2 miles of your life and the rest would be revealed as you move along.

Harry smiled at being deep for once. Or cliché. Must be the swinging bottle in his hand.

“As I was saying, you’re getting tired with this industry. You hate being around yourself, not others. You look left, you look right and you’re not happy with what you see around you. To your left you have your past with you’re the death of your dad, Des, your dysfunctional mother and her fiancé that you absolutely hate, your silent sister, Georgia, in Brazil and recently your sister Gemma who’s not talking to you anymore.”

“My fault,” he mummed.

“To your right is literally your job. The media portrays the worst side of you, your band mates have no idea who you are, you can’t write one bloody song which is literally your career, you collapse when you hit the gym and you’re not happy when you sing anymore.”

“I am.”

“No you’re not. Not anymore at least. Do you want to know why?”

“Obviously, that’s why I’m here,” Harry said, shaking his head. _Is this woman being extra stupid today?_

“You originally auditioned for X Factor as an escapism choice. Your mother literally drove you out of her house and you lived with Gemma in her university dorms for a while in Sheffield as your other sister was across the continent living in Malaysia doing whatever. You then got into drugs to stop the pain of your family being inflicted on you and it got so bad that you were broke, you couldn’t keep a job for more than 2 weeks because apparently weed’s never been so good. And I’m pretty sure you got that from watching your sister smoke was what got you started to these drugs.”

“I used to watch my older sister, Georgia, smoke in her room for hours!” Harry said, remembering his past. “I’m not saying I’m proud of it, well I was better at her when passing out. She would eat a cookie the size of a coin and pass out for 11 hours and I would only four.”

“To stop being a burden to everyone around you, you audition for the X Factor and by some luck, you win even though you were very close to losing. I mean, you were competing against another band at Simon’s house, you lost the X Factor but no matter what you guys still won in the end.”

“In case you forgot, you’re literally describing my life right now.”

“You auditioned for the wrong reasons. You didn’t do it because you wanted to be in a band or sing indie songs with a guitar at coffee shops, no! You did it to run away and now that you actually did run away, it means nothing to you. Since you can’t run away again, you want to, well run again, this time through death. If a car was heading towards you, you wouldn’t see it as suicide but as a way of running away.”

“Escapism sounds better don’t you?” he mused, smiling with his dimples.

“Stop fake smiling,” she shook her head. “Have you ever thought of doing something else?”

“Something else as in?”

“Doing a different career. I believe that what you are doing right now is not what you love which makes it a job but if you loved it then it’d be a career. Find something that makes you love what you do, like baking. Have you ever thought of baking?”

Harry said, smiling like a child, “I loved baking.”

“Oh really?”

He blushed. “Yes. I was going to be a baker before I decided that I would need money to build my own bakery so I opted for singing and get free money just for singing,” Harry said, laughing at the realization of how easy his last three years of his career can be summed up. “I sing to get free money.”

“I heard Georgia was pregnant,” she said, gazing at him. Sometimes she would midway stop her session with Harry and just chit chat as a way for Harry to stop tensing up and relax.

“She is? How do you know?”

“I have my connections and Lana looks pregnant as well.”

“What?” Harry asked, shocked!

“Scared?”

“I’m not ready to be a father,” Harry fiddled with his thumbs. “But with Louis, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

“Of course you would,” she smiled. “What about your STIs?”

“I’m on medication for gonorrhea and I’m going for my HIV test in 3 weeks. As for chlamydia, is it weird that I want to still have it?”

“Yes, one hundred percent,” she nodded in all seriousness. Maybe Harry was messed up.

“Okay then, I’ll go to the doctor after,” he said. They fell in silence, Harry gazing out the window as Dr Hitsugaya typed on her iPad, occasionally glancing at Harry’s crotch area. I mean, who wouldn’t when you know, it’s right _there_!

“Oh,” she lit up after Harry was almost done with his bottle. “Caroline told me something.”

“Oh really?” his interest perked up.

“I know we don’t talk about her because we have our differences of what your relationship really was about,” she said, treading on dangerous grounds. Despite what Harry says every time, she believes that she used to molest Harry and occasionally rape him when she drugged him with… well, drugs. On the other hand, Harry professes it’s a show of love that Doctor doesn’t understand.

She just doesn’t.

He stiffens, his mouth forming a tight line at the thought that people would dare say his beautiful ex-girlfriend _raped_ him. How dare they! It was love, why don’t they get it? She told him it was love!!

“Let it go.”

“She told me that the last time you went to her office you mentioned something of having a plan,” she said. “I would like to know what you have planned.”

“Well, I can’t tell you exactly but with every waking moment I picture my plan, I visualize it, I pray upon it, ironic as it may seem, and definitely eat, breath, dance and drink it,” he smiled. “It’s literally what I look forward to nowadays.”

“Is it good?”

“Yes of course. It’s the most brilliant plan ever! Well, it’s reckless but fun and I can feel it,” he smiled, hugging himself like a straight jacket. “Whenever I think of it I can’t help but smile and my heart pisses in its pants.”

“Your heart doesn’t have pants.”

“I sucked at metaphors… or is it a simile?”

“I’m not an English teacher.”

“Who cares? My plan is brilliant and you will never see it coming. But while we’re discussing my plan, what do you think about me coming out? To the world?”

She gaped at him. Was she hearing right? Harry Styles, the boy who was so scared of his sexuality, the boy who refused to talk about his sexuality with anyone, the boy who feels suffocated by being gay, the boy who wants to burn his skin thinking it would get rid of his gay… he wants to come out?

“Why the sudden want to come out?”

“I guess you haven’t heard about Mr X? Not reading celeb blogs are we?”

“I am your therapist, not your gossip mate,” she said, being all serious. “I know sometimes we cross that line but only to make you comfortable. But listen to me, if you don’t tell me what your great plan is I fear I may tell Mark and Jill to warn them about impending danger on your life?”

“How can something that makes me smile be an impending danger?” he wondered.

“These are the signs of someone who is suicidal,” she said eyeing him. He didn’t make a move when she mentioned suicidal so that was out.

“Just because I want to die doesn’t mean I’m suicidal and just because I am suddenly happy after years doesn’t mean I’m suicidal either. Why are you obsessed with me being suicidal?”

Harry shakes his head.

“I’m not,” he said. “If I was you know you’d be the second person I’d tell” – she cocked her head to one side, asking who the other person is – “The first would be King.”

“Why are you focusing your pain on another pain?”

“Why the fuck do you talk in tongues and weird rhetorical questions which apparently you want me to answer?” he asked, getting irritated. It always happened when he drank a full bottle, nothing to worry about.

“You primal pain is your sexuality and dealing with it, your drugs and alcohol are your way of removing the energy focused on your sexuality to your drug and alcohol problem. Now that it’s become an actual pain to you, you have blotched another plan-”

“A good one it is,” he nodded.

“Another plan that would then require you to focus on the new problem that you’re creating, leaving the real problem unsolved. Whatever you’re planning, please stop it. You’re just running away. You’re running away from being gay, dealing with your father’s death, dealing with the fact that your best sister is not talking to you anymore, dealing with the entertainment industry, dealing with your strong feelings for Louis but most importantly, dealing with yourself.”

He watched her listing all of his issues, keenly listening because she was being solemn at this moment. “Maybe life isn’t meant for everyone,” he suggested.

“Oh?” she raised her eyebrow.

“Let me tell you a story. There’s a boy named Tristan who had being seeing a therapist for a year. They would meet every Thursday for their session, 3 hours just like us. Sometimes they’d meet on Sunday if he had a pressing issue like let’s say he had a breakthrough in his life or if his life took a terrible downturn again that couldn’t wait till next Thursday. One time he came in for his session high as a kite, completely baked he thought he was in jail” – “Jail really?” she interrupts – “other times he would be so shy, he barely spoke so they played Monopoly or whatever. But every time they met, they would find new problems that Tristan had, new issues that came up.”

“That’s healthy,” Dr Hitsugaya noted.

“Yes,” he nodded too. “This made it easier for his therapist to understand him deeper but not as well because the therapist became so confused he wondered how on earth someone like him ended up the way he is. Like why would the god you believe in let him be this screwed?”

“What happened?”

“One day he comes into his session, not high nor is he shy, just normal like any normal teenager walking down the London streets. But today’s different. He comes on a Tuesday, a special call from his therapist who was up all night” – he giggled at mentioning one of their songs, Dr Hitsugaya smiled to – “reading his files and everything. He asks if everything is okay and he shakes his head. Do you know what he says? Do you know what his therapist fucking dares says to him?”

She shook her head.

“After a whole year of treating him, spending time with him, knowing his inside and out, and border lining being his only friend he tells him, ‘Maybe life isn’t meant for everyone.’ How dare he? That’s brutal,” he heaved, fire breathing through his nose.

“People have come up with different answers,” she said, looking at Harry frothing, walking angrily around her small room.

“No,” he said. “Absolutely not! What if he killed himself after that? I mean, he would trust the therapist’s opinion than anyone else. I mean the therapist is the only one who knows him inside out and knows his life and all that makes Tristan, Tristan! And he says that?”

“Why are you upset?” she asked. Harry didn’t answer – mumbling, ‘It’s not fair’ – just walking around in the room, mumbling under his hot breath. She knew it was more than the story he just said but she didn’t know where it came from but it was something to do with him. His past? His relationship with her? Did he think she was going to give him bad advice? Did he not trust her with doing her job on him?

“Are you talking about me?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Why would it?” He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at her; her black hair falling flawlessly down her shoulders, her white blouse a bit too tight, her polka dot bra shining through it, her stockings hugging her thigh-highs. He looked at her.

“Why are you staring at me?” she asked, crossing her thigh on her other thigh, her skirt riding up high. She bent forward, exposing her cleavage through her chiffon blouse.

“I’m not flirting with you,” he sighed, noticing her plump lips and perky tits. “What if this life isn’t for me?”

“What?”

In a hurried manner, pacing through the room, he fired a bunch of questions at her. “What if this life isn’t for me? What if I’ve been doing everything wrong and I’ve been lying to myself I can do this, I can keep doing what I’m doing? What if this life isn’t for me? What if this isn’t my career? What if this isn’t my dream and I’m lying to myself?”

“But life is for everyone?”

“What if this isn’t the life for me?”

“All lives are meant for everyone. Each person deserves a life. You deserve a beautiful life.”

“Not me,” he shook his head, throwing his bottle across the room, splashing through the glass wall. “Not this life.”

“No, listen to me Harry,” she said. “Life is meant for everyone.”

Fired up with momentum, he asked. “What if it isn’t?”

“It is!”

“You don’t understand.”

“Tell me then, what do you mean?”

“You told me that I need to look right, look left and make sure I’m happy with what I see. Well I’m not. So why should I remain?”

She stands up franctically, afraid for him and what a fury Harry might do. She walks towards him but he walks back, stopping herself. “I don’t understand you Harry and you’re scaring me.”

“I’m definitely quitting One Direction.”

She gasped.

“No!”

“And I’m not picking any of my pieces!”

“What pieces?”

“The pieces I left behind, I’m leaving them. I’m leaving them for good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #ohnoharry


	21. [Modest Modest!?]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets in trouble at the Management meeting.... Back home, Mr X posts a new entry from his diary: Entry 025.

_++_

_And you'll find loss and you'll fear what you found. When weather comes, tearing down **~ Ben Howard**_

_++_

_ _

 

Jill sighed heavily for the third time since 9:00AM. “Why Harry? Why are you always in the news and media for your ruthless behavior?”

“You think Mr X is my fault?”

“Clearly,” Jill rolled her eyes.

“Okay, let’s all calm down and stop pointing fingers at Harry but let’s talk about the upcoming tour, _Where We Are_ ,” Simon said, calming the tension in the room.

Mark shifted his papers on the desk. “Yes the tour. The tour as you all know will start on November 11th in Barranquilla, Colombia for 2 days and then head off to Brazil for a week starting with Rio de Janeiro.”

“Are these all the countries we’re to for all the tour?” Liam wondered looking at the countries listed on the paper that was passed around.

“Yes, exciting isn’t it?”

“Yeah it is,” Niall smiled. “Personally, I hear Brazil has hot girls all over.”

“And Colombia has drugs, some for Harry, eh?” Zayn chuckled.

“Of course we can’t go on a tour when the album isn’t even done,” Jill said glaring at Harry beyond her glasses. “Harry Styles, we need your songs by Friday when the album is officially being released.”

“Actually, it should be by Thursday or else you’re out of the band,” Simon said.

Harry sighed. “Haven’t we done this before?”

“You can’t do that,” Louis said.

“Finally,” Liam said as loud as he could to make sure Harry heard. Harry rolled his eyes and looked at the list of European countries they’d be touring.

“You can’t do this now, it’s a tough time for Harry,” Niall said, his eyebrows up. Harry cocked his head to him, asking what he was doing but Niall nodded, reassuring him. “As a friend and a band mate, Simon please don’t let Harry leave the band. He, as the rest of us, have had a few tough couple of months, what with the media constantly on our backs about the album, Australia, Africa and Asia asking for tour dates, the media following Harry’s every single move, Larry and Elounor have gone worse with their battles-”

“They’re just fans,” Zayn said.

“Besides, we all know Eleanor and I are in a relationship and Larry is fake and frankly, disgusting,” Louis spit out. “Right, Harry?”

Harry hesitated, his mouth in a surprise looking at Louis, the love of his life. “Yes,” he managed to choke… chocking all the air out of his lungs, feeling like all the air in the room was leaving through the small keyhole and window. Because if mentioning that Larry was fake made Louis happy then he just would. I mean, don’t you want the person that you love with your whole heart to be happy? Isn’t that what love is? Putting aside your needs for the one you truly, madly and deeply love??

“It’s silly.”

“Why can’t we just end these Larry rumors once and for all and go to the media?” Louis asked.

“Yeah,” Zayn agreed. “I think Harry should say that Larry isn’t real.”

“Why Harry?” Mark asked. “Louis had done it already. I mean, he tweeted saying Larry Stylinson was bullshit, he’s dating Eleanor which should have stopped the rumors but I don’t know why not” – he glares at Louis – “but most of all, Harry dating Lana should have calmed the Larry rumors, not made them worse.”

“I think if Harry says Larry is fake, it will end,” Liam said.

“Okay fine, so it’s settled, Harry will tweet saying Larry is fake and you’re happy with Lana,” Jill said with contempt at Harry. He glared at her, his mouth shut tight. “Or whatever time you find convenient but before midnight.”

“Sure,” he responded darkly.

“Okay, that’s off the table and now for your songs Harry,” Simon said. “If by Thursday you’re not done with your songs, I swear you’re out of the band. For a long time I believed in you. You were the one I thought would handle fame the best but it got the better of you. You were derailed by fame, wealth and the finer things of life-”

“I’m handling it fine,” Harry growled.

“I tried to warn you,” he said to Harry. And then turned to the four other boys. “All of you. I told you about the dangers of the entertainment industry. I asked you for days whether it was worth it, worth the pain, the trauma, the relationships, the everything and all of you said yes it would be. But not you Harry, I don’t think you listened hard enough.”

“I did,” he said in a low tone.

“Did you? Look at you, you’ve lied, stole, broken the trust of your family. Your entire family at this moment does not even speak to you and yet you’re fine with it because you think cocaine and a therapist will keep off the pain?” he asked, the four lads looking at Harry with surprise.

“You’re seeing a therapist?” Liam asked first, feeling guilty for pushing Harry too much.

“Why?” Zayn asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jill spoke before Simon. “Your therapist won’t help your problems go away, something else will and we agree with what Simon has come up with.”

“I am fine and I don’t need this stupid lecture,” Harry said, his fist punching the space between him and Louis.

“It’s these lectures that would have helped you if you listened,” Mark said. “You used to be so nice, charming, humble, cheeky and enjoyable to be around. You had a certain flair that people loved, a positive one. Can you believe that was only 5 months ago? And in those five months, you’ve turned over a new leaf. Changed. You’re a monster now.”

Harry’s jaw dropped to the floor, Liam gasped, Zayn frowned at Mark, I mean how dare he insult his best friend and Louis held his hand tightly. But Niall was the only one who understood what Mark was insinuating but that was no right to call him a monster.

“You have absolute no right to call him that, he’s a good guy,” Niall snarled.

“No, you don’t understand Niall,” Simon said.

“No you don’t understand,” Niall protested.

He turned to Harry. “You’ve gone crazy and you’re a monster! And yes, Gemma called me saying the last conversation you both had. You’re insane Harry. You’re out of control and quite frankly, if you don’t bring your songs by Thursday, I will admit you to the London Mental Hospital.”

“You can’t do that,” Harry said, his voice rising, alarm bells ringing.

“Actually I can. I have evidence from your sister that you are insane and if you take me to court, which I know you will, she will testify against you.”

“You’re crazy, Gemma would never do that,” Zayn snorted.

“Why would she do that?” Niall asked confused.

“Why would my sister go against me?” Harry asked.

“Because she’ll do anything to bring her old brother back,” he replied calmly. “Even if it means you going there for life.”

“Life?” Louis asked.

“I may want Harry out of the band but don’t do this to him,” Liam confessed.

“It’s never that serious Simon,” Zayn said.

“It is,” Simon said, his eyes all over a nervous, sweaty Harry whose fingers were twitching for a cigarette. “So this is it, you either write the songs or you go to the mental hospital for the rest of your life. Your choice Harry.”

 

*****

Like an obsession, Harry logged onto Twitter to see if Mr X had posted any more of his diary entries. Ever since Mr X began, you could say he’s become a Twitter addict, spending 90% of his time on Twitter, lurking and waiting for Mr X to strike. He ignored his friends when they were going to a party at Conor’s house, ignored them when the Tristan was hosting a party [yes, THE Tristan. Even King had to check if he wasn’t mentally impaired!], skipped his choreography sessions with the band and most definitely ignored questions about his diary entries from Louis and the rest. So yes, lucky for him he had not posted any entry since.

Unlucky for him, he was about to.

**_THE MR X_ ** _@mrX_

_I’m feeling bored my sexy fans so why not a new entry?_

Crap, Harry cursed.

 

**_Harry Styles_ ** _@Harry_Styles_

_@mrX Can’t wait_

**_THE MR X_ ** _@mrX_

_@Harry_Styles I know you can’t, so why not something…. dangerous?_

What was he going to post? Harry wondered. At this point, anything he ever wrote is dangerous so that made it harder to predict what he would post!

**_Harry Styles_ ** _@Harry_Styles_

_@mrX Everything is dangerous._

**_THE MR X_ ** _@mrX_

_The music industry as we all know is essentially 60% PR and 40% entertainment… Or 70% PR and 30%. Don’t believe me?_

Seconds later, PR and 70% started trending worldwide and in 21 countries at a top trend.

 

**_1D UPDATES LIVELY_ ** _@LivelyUpdates1D_

_@mrX no we don’t! #MRXSHOULD DIE_

**_HJPR_ ** _@hjpr_

_The entertainment is 100% entertainment!_

**_Just King Hoe_ ** _@JUSTKING_

_@mrX you’re just a fake! If you have something against my friend @Harry_Styles, #COMEOUTANDBEREAL !_

Believe it or not, #COMEOUTANDBEREAL in an instant become a worldwide trend as well as a top trend in 30 countries.

**_  
Nick Grimshaw_ ** _@grimmers_

_“@JUSTKING: @mrX you’re just a fake! If you have something against my friend @Harry_Styles, #COMEOUTANDBEREAL !”_

**_Zayn Malik_ ** _@zaynmalik1D_

_#COMEOUTANDBEREAL coward!_

**_Katy Perry_ ** _@katyperry_

_Mr X is a coward and a threat to entertainment freedom. ROAR against Mr X, KatyCats!_

**_Lana Del Ray_ ** _@lanadelrayyy_

_Mr X should #COMEOUTANDBEREAL and tell Harry what he/she/it thinks to his face XO_

**_Rihanna_ ** _@rihanna_

_#COMEOUTANDBEREAL instagram.com/p/jamSNeMw1r/#_ _Be strong @Harry_Styles!_

**_Justin Bieber_ ** _@justinbieber_

_Beliebers, as a family, let’s help out my good friend Harry and trend #COMEOUTANDBEREAL leggooo_

**_Niall Horan_ ** _@NiallOfficial_

_@mrX you don’t know what you’re talking about #COMEOUTANDBEREAL_

**_THE MR X_ ** _@mrX_

_@NiallOfficial what if I told you I know the truth from Harry?_

**_Niall Horan_ ** _@NiallOfficial_

_@mrX It’s not real, he was a young lad then and didn’t know what he was saying. #COMEOUTANDBEREAL_

**_THE MR X_ ** _@mrX_

_@NiallOfficial He was 17 years, pretty sure he did. In fact, why don’t I just post it, right now?_

**_Louis Tomlinson_ ** _@Louis_Tomlinson_

_@mrX @NiallOfficial you’re a coward X!! #COMEOUTANDBEREAL_

**_THE MR X_ ** _@mrX_

_I’m here for the truth my sexy fans, and here’s the truth, ENTRY 025: instagram.com/p/giRsFOvJzS/# !!_

**_ENTRY 025:_ **

**_Wednesday 7 th November, 2011_ **

_Dear Banana,_

_…._

_Nothing is the truth anymore and I’m afraid, neither am I._

_I remember Simon telling us last year after we lost the X Factor [sad], in his office, that we were a big risk, he didn’t think we would actually have make it yadda yadda yadda then he told us we’ve been signed up with Sony Music! Sony Music!!! But I think my life should’ve have ended when we lost X Factor, I really wish that I didn’t get signed, I wish I didn’t agree and I wish I had listened to Simon when he told us going into the industry is like a jungle. You have a 50-50 percent chance of making it **ALIVE**!_

_So after thousands of talks by Simon I think we were ready. How wrong was I! The whole industry is controlled by invisible hands – you don’t see them but they see you and they know everything! Literally everything. One of the invisible hands are Modest! Management which deals with our recordings and stuff and for our appearances and everything it’s HJPR – the PR team basically. At the end of the day we’re puppets because we don’t have a say in anything. Don’t believe me?_

_Look at your album UP ALL NIGHT, we seek crappy songs about superficial love, getting girls and basically having fun all the time and they don’t talk about us at all. I told Paul this during our choreography lesson the other day and he said we should play along or else they could ruin us. RUIN US! And as for HJPR, they’ve done a might fun job. Because of ‘breaking up’ with Caroline, I’ve been told to date Emily Ostilly [she was in the Gotta Be You video remember? Yeah, her] to put a stop to the Larry rumors and also to have a girlfriend on my side, “a very important accessory in the industry”, Jill said. So everytime in interviews for the last 2 weeks I literally have to talk about Emily and how much I love her and our amazing sex life [to be honest, I couldn’t have sex with her yesterday, she just makes me sick and she thinks I have “penis problems”, she called it] and basically Jill said we should lie lie lie lie lie lie lie and she would know, she’s the Head of HJPR._

_It’s horrible, though, to go through life and your entire life is basically a lie. And no, my banana, I can’t escape and break free and all that crap. I’m basically in a prison in this industry. How can something that makes you so happy make you cry every night? Why then, do these tears come out at night when I have everything in the world? You know, cover up after cover up, lie after lie, façade after façade, you eventually start to wear the mask that you show the world because you forgot to take it off._

_Do you want to know the truth though? Well, I’m half British! I’m actually half British, half Spanish. My dad, Des, is… was from Barcelona and Anne met him there when she was on holiday with her fiancé. Slut. Let’s see, Niall is actually South African [well half South African, half Australian] but Jill thought it’s easier for him to be Irish and if not then he would have been kicked out of the band because we were a BRITISH band. Or meant to. Liam cheated on Danielle with Eleanor Calder, some girl Louis is seeing but they’re not official. Danielle cried [we are good friends, he he] saying how Li is a cheater and everything and I told her to break it off. HJPR refused and so she was stuck with him. Louis has nine sisters from five different husbands and one of them died this year in August. Can you believe he was originally in The Wanted?? Shock on my face when he told me!!! And Zayn? He’s Mexican and is smitten with his girlfriend. Whipped much!_

_And this is just the tip of the iceberg of the lies we’ve been telling the media._

_But I wonder, my banana, how many times do we lie, before we become liars?_

_XX_

_Harry_

“Harry,” Louis called out, banging open every door at 10PM and opening his door to see him on his bed, under the sheets, laptop on his lap. His heart melted, seeing him in a curled up position like a small hamster shivering in the snow. Harry looked up and saw a grim face, knowing he had read everything.

“Have you read it?” he asked. Louis nodded closing the door and taking off his shoes. “Simon is going to kill me, after Jill skins me alive and Mark feeds me off to Nepal.”

“Nepal?” Louis cocked his head, smiling. Harry smiled back.

“I don’t know.”

“Liam hates you,” Louis said, not sure why but he felt like he should.

“He already did.”

“So does Danielle and Eleanor.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said.

“Eleanor called to apologize, saying it was a mistake,” Louis said, looking at his toes.

“Are you and Eleanor…” Harry wanted to ask if he was okay with El but Louis shook his head, dismissing the question.

“It wasn’t meant to come out,” Harry explained. “Danielle said it was a secret so I couldn’t tell but then I wrote it down and now the whole world knows…”

“Niall told me everything,” Louis said, Harry’s heart sinking to his stomach. “Well not everything but enough for me to understand the whole issue with Mr X.” Phew, he breathed. Al least Louis didn’t know he was gay. Harry shifted a bit as Louis climbed onto his bed, Harry watching him slam shut the laptop, accidentally falling on the floor with a crash.

“My songs are on there,” he said, his eyes moving from the laptop on the carpet floor to _his_ eyes.

“Who cares?” Louis shrugged, cuddling with Harry in bed.

“I’ll go to a mental hospital for the rest of my life so-”

“Don’t think about it, Simon may have been serious but you’re not leaving One Direction for as long as I’m alive,” Louis vowed. If only he knew that Harry had quit the band and all he was waiting for was time; time to execute his well thought out plan that he had been plotting for months now.

“What does Mr X want?” Louis asked, sharing a pillow with his mate.

“I don’t know,” Harry said, brimming in tears. Louis quickly hushed him, his arms wrapped around him tightly, calming him down.

“Please don’t cry,” Louis begged, stroking his hair as the tears fell freely.

“What changed between us Haz?” Louis asked after Harry stopped crying and was now sniffing.

“I did.”

“How?”

He shook his head against Louis’ chest. “I can’t say.”

“Can I ask you something?” Louis asked, his thumb grazing Harry’s jawline. Harry’s mouth twitched in a smile but he was too preoccupied with the feel of not only Louis’ thumb along his chin but their legs intertwined sinfully beneath the red sheets.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

He tittered. “I asked why are you scared about the diary leaking? What’s so bad about your entries from 2011 and 2012?”

“It’s what’s inside that will kill me,” Harry said, gazing at his eyes, his amazing blue eyes that you could get lost in and not want to come out.

“You can trust me with anything Harry, you know that,” Louis reassured him, drawing circles on his back. Harry smiled and he felt like his secret was at the tip of his tongue. It was ready to roll out, uttering the words he was afraid to say, “I’m gay” but again, he was scared. He couldn’t tell the love of his life the truth.

“I know but… it’s one of those things that will make you think of me differently,” he confessed because it was the truth.

“I will keep telling you that nothing you say or do will ever make me leave until you believe it.”

“Promise?” Harry asked hopeful, holding Louis’ left, warm hand under the sheets.

“I’m still here aren’t I? After Ellie’s death, conspiracy over Ed’s death that y’all killed him, your overdose-”

“I didn’t overdose.”

“Whatever it was, I’m still here and for the longest time I will never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever” – Harry giggled and slightly tapped him to stop – “leave you. Your my best friend, what’s yours is mine, your secrets are my secrets and I love you Hazza. I love you so much I will never let you go,” Louis said, gazing into Harry’s swollen eyes. “I mean it,” he whispered.

“I love you too Loubear,” Harry professed. Except he meant it, more than just friends. Louis smiled, happy that Harry was distracting him from Eleanor who had been calling him all night but he ignored her calls. Or turned off his phone, which was the same thing anyway.

“Goodnight love,” Louis whispered, shutting Harry’s eyes with his fingers. Harry giggled at the touch but remained his eyelids shut.

“Goodnight Boobear,” Harry smiled beneath the sheets, warm in Louis’ embrace.

 

Why was it different though, Louis thought falling asleep, why was it always different whenever he was with Harry?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aweee


	22. [CSI: One Direction]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr X posts MORE entries from Harry's diary... The hunt for Mr X's indentity continues with the squad [and Niall] chatting on Skype.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you honestly guess who MR X is? [=   
> *puts on Sherlock Holmes' hat*

_++_

_But this has got the best of me and I just can’t sleep. And it’s not because you’re not with me it’s because you never leave ~ **Bring Me The Horizon**_

_++_

_ _

 

“So let me get this straight, you need to write your songs by Friday, which is tomorrow or else you’ll be shipped off to mental captivity for the rest of your life?” Lana asks after I tell her what happened at the last meeting with Modest! and Simon and all those creepy losers of the entertainment industry.

“Those are the bullet points, yeah,” I say sipping my tropical juice with shots of vodka in it. Yup, you guessed it, we are on a date for publicity. Yes, this crap is still going on. And right on time, I can spot paparazzi with their huge cameras behind cars, buildings, litter bins and that loser standing behind a pole. Oh shit, that’s a fan! Oops!

Lana chews down her cinnamon roll with her coated cherry blossom lipstick lips. “You’re obviously not going to go are you?”

“Nope,” I shake my head. “I have a plan.”

_That I don’t even know about_ , my inner god scoffs.

“Yet you’re inside my head,” I say out loud. Lana pauses and squints her eyes at me, wondering what I’m talking about. “Nothing.”

_Haha,_ my inner god laughs. _Loser!_

“Yeah, maybe Simon was right in taking you to that hospital,” she sticks out her tongue. I give her the evil eye and she drops the subject. “What is your plan?”

“I’m quitting the band,” I say simply. It’s technically true that I am actually quitting the band but that’s just the half of it. And I’m not about to tell my fake girlfriend my plans or she may run to Simon and tell him everything. “And before you ask, I have written my songs and I’m emailing them tomorrow.”

“Do you realize what you’re doing Harry?” Lana asks. “You’re self-sabotaging everything. If you quit the band, so do the others – Louis, Liam, Niall and Zayn – all of them will want to quit. Your fans are going to leave you because there is no One Direction without Harry Styles. I mean, you can’t eat cake without chocolate syrup, can you?”

“Who eats cake with chocolate syrup?” I question. I take out my cigarette packet and light it up.

“I do and you’re deviating from what I’m trying to say: think about what will happen when you quit. Do you know One Direction will virtually stop existing and soon enough you’ll become a band that we used to know.”

“You don’t think I’ve thought this through? Of course I have and I realize what is going to happen once I leave but I’ve thought this through a thousand and one times. I’ve stayed up all night planning, strategizing, planning again, correcting mistakes and seeing all the sides to the plan and literally cancelled out any flaws that may appear.”

“No plan is that perfect!”

“Mine is and I’m going out with a bang,” I say getting emotionally excited and a little turned on. Or maybe that was just me staring at Lana’s hair moving at purr with the slight breeze.

She hesitates before speaking. “Okay then. When are you leaving?”

“By next week I won’t be here,” I reply.

“Can I ask why?”

“You probably know why,” I say.

“Louis?” she asks and I remain silent. She gapes at me when she realizes she guessed right and starts asking me endless questions, one by one, all about Louis.

“What did he do that made you want to quit? He’s always been there for the last three years and in any of those years you could have left but nope, you decided that it would be now.”

“Your point is?”

“Why are you suddenly leaving?”

“Because of Louis,” I chuckle, beating around the bush.

“I give up,” she throws her hands the air. I blow out lung cancer, hearing a click near me. I could already see tomorrow’s headlines on Twitter and national papers: _Harry Styles and his smoke addiction_ or _Harry Styles putting his fans on a smoking spree_ [I don’t even know how that headline makes sense!]

“Well I should be heading home,” I say butting my cigarette and asking for the check.

“So what happens to us?”

“Well, you can end it however you want. My treat to you,” I say smiling.

“Harry I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” she says, her lashes batting on her rosy, _Maybelline_ cheeks.

“What is it?”

“I… I don’t know how to say this without seeming like a stupid twit but I may be pregnant…”

_WHAT?_

“WHAT?”

“It could be yours, it could not but honestly I don’t know because I’ve been on a sex craze this past few weeks, shooting my music video and all the guys on set are very-’

_Oh hell naw, this girl ain’t preggo with yo child_ , my inner god snaps his fingers.

She has to be joking, she really does because I’m not ready to be a father, I tell him in my head.

_She gon’ start asking for child support and shit_

Why are you talking like this?

_I’m just protecting you bruh_

Who says ‘bruh’ anymore?

_I do… bruh_

I roll my eyes at him and snap myself into reality where Lana was still talking. I point my palm towards her. “Getting off topic!”

“Oh right, sorry. I went for a pregnancy test and I was weeks pregnant, like 5 weeks,” she says, scratching her arm up and down.

“It better not be mine whore,” I huff angrily, push my chair across the ceramic floor and walk out of the café, damned be the paparazzi’s and what they write.

 

*****

Like is the recent tradition, I grab my new Apple laptop [Louis crashed my old one] and log on Twitter, to check out new tweets from Mr X who I still don’t get why he’s back from that time we were performing at MSG. Conveniently, Modest! hasn’t said anything talking about Mr X.

 

**_THE MR X_ ** _@mrX_

_Thank you for trending 026! And as promised, here is the diary entry about @Louis_Tomlinson. I’m going to post Zayn’s entry next in half an hour! ENJOY_ [ _pic.twitter.com/PAKzFymrTZ_ ](http://t.co/PAKzFymrTZ)

I click on the picture link and lean back on the chair, two cigarettes dangling steady between my fingers reading the ghosts of my diary entry.

 

**_ENTRY 026:_ **

**_Thursday 15 th December, 2011_ **

_Dear Banana,_

_Louis just told the ENTIRE world that Larry Stylinson is fake and that he’s happy with Eleanor Calder his new girlfriend. To be honest my banana, I am happy but he doesn’t even KNOW this girl. Ironic since I set him up with her! Yes, I was the one who set El and Lou on a date earlier this year in like March or something and he’s now head over heels over her. What has she done to him? I know Eleanor, I know the real El but he won’t listen to me. She’s a manipulating, slutty slag bitch who uses her body to get what she wants. I told Louis what I know about Eleanor and even asked Chloe Buchanan, my friend, and her sister to be here but he told me off and he went to see her… 3 days ago and he’s not back yet! Well, Modest! got what they wanted: Larry rumors were hushed downed, Eleanor and Louis accounts suddenly appeared [I think their ship name is called ‘Elounor’ or whatever] and since Louis’ bullshit tweet, the rumors are closing in and disappearing slowly. I guess that’s good news, right banana?_

_Yeah it would be it good news if it was someone else NOT Eleanor! It’s like he doesn’t even appreciate that I’m helping him out as a friend. He doesn’t even remember I’m the one who fought for him for the remainder of 2010 when Mark wanted to remove him from the band because his voice was “too high for our type of music” and for days I would talk to Simon then talk to the music producers, then Modest! managers and all the time they would agree with Mark. But eventually they let Louis stay in return for not singing at all in the album!?!?!?!?!? I literally sing in the entire album, well me and Liam, but that’s not the point. Louis was meant to be IN the band not One Direction feat. Louis Tomlinson._

_GAAAHHHH, I have to go, my takeout Chinese is here!_

_XX  
Harry_

“Great, he…she… it put the Louis chapter,” I grunt, reaching the end of the entry. “And now the entire world knows about Louis and how he was almost kicked out of the band.”

I scrolled through some of the Twitter replies, seeing Louis’ reply first.

 

**_Louis Tomlinson_ ** _@Louis_Tomlinson_

_MR X IS COMPLETE BULLSHIT AND @mrX KNOWS IT!_

Well, at least he’s not pissed at me, for once. For the first time in a billion years, I check Eleanor’s twitter to check out her reaction. She’s been sending hundreds of tweets to him apologizing for what she did, asking Liam to ask Louis to forgive her but Liam on the other hand – I go to his timeline – Liam is chatting up to Sophia, being all lovey dovey. Well, I guess they haven’t seen the post by Mr X yet.

_Or because Liam hates your guys and doesn’t care_ , my inner god shrugs.

“I guess he does but Louis would say something,” I say.

_Why is this guy taking a picture of your entry though?_ my inner god asks.

Before I can reply, Mr X posts the next entry; the Zayn entry.

 

**_THE MR X_ ** _@mrX_

_@zaynmalik1D isn’t who he was and diary entry 027 will explain that. I’m also doing this because we are getting to the good chapter about @Harry_Style :) ENJOY_ [ _pic.twitter.com/mRnmxtEzdq_ ](http://t.co/mRnmxtEzdq)

 

**_ENTRY 027:_ **

**_Thursday 12 th January, 2012_ **

_Dear Banana,_

_HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ZAYNIE BUDDIE!!_

_He’s with Perrie right now, celebrating their birthday… probably a thousand times and two so tonight we’re not with him. Well, not me. I’m going out with Emily for our date and I’m pretty sure we’re still not going to have sex, as usual. I think I’m to dump her; she’s soooo boring! All she does is talk about love stories her mom read to her, her past boyfriends who were more romantic than me which surprisingly are many. My favorite is Zac Efron, he sounds like an awesome guy. I should totally hit him up._

_Can’t believe Zaynie is 21!! He’s sooo old yet he acts like he’s 12.It’s so weird though, how when we grow older we become less and less of who we are… or were. Like I’m not the same. But Zayn’s become a good person, he’s not a cocaine addict anymore and doesn’t do drugs. Shocker, right? Yeah, Zayn told us this weird story about his dealings with his best friend Zack [or Paul?] by selling coke on the streets. He said it was the only way he could pay for his sisters’ studies as his father passed away and his mom doesn’t make much money as a housekeeper at some hotel in West London._

_Now that Zayn went for X Factor auditions, money was a little short so none of his sisters went to school anymore due to lack of fees. He continued to tell us his story despite the tears in his eyes and telling him to calm down that no one would come looking for him because apparently dealers catch_ feelings _when you quit. So he continued saying that he didn’t know if his mom was going to survive the harsh winter or if they would survive the next day since there was not enough food for the four of them. That night, we gave him money that saw his mom move back to his grandmother’s place for the meantime, or until Zayn stopped his X Factor “phase” [that’s what his mom told him]._

_Eventually he got out, thanks to all four of us. Well, mostly thanks to Louis who sort of “talked” to the dealers Zayn was dealing with and as a “parting gift”, they let him free, along with Zack, his BFF. His mother on the other hand, thanks to Liam and me, got a good job that didn’t involve small pay per week that wouldn’t even put a food on the table. And thanks to Niall, who kept Zayn’s sister’s occupied during the entire thing and didn’t even know what Zayn was upto._

_XX_

_HARRY_

 

“Don’t I look heroic,” I smug thinking of those days when Zayn would cry days on end, saying he wasn’t doing enough for his family and X Factor was a mistake because he wasn’t making any money.

_Least we did something_

A voice cries from my butt. I twist and turn on my seat but see nothing so I crunch down [whale sounds and all because damn, I need to hit the gym] and see I’ve called Niall and he’s on the line. Niall continues to speak, “His family is forever grateful.”

“When did I call him?” I think out loud, staring at my phone.

_You butt dialed me and yes, I heard you talking about everything about Louis and Zayn and soon Liam._

“Liam?”

_Mr X is posting Liam’s chapter any minute now if you didn’t know._

“What about you?”

_He’s not posting one about me, which is weird if you ask me._

“Yeah it is,” I say, rounding my lips around two cigarettes. “Why do you think so?”

_I don’t know but I’m trying to figure out who he… she… Mr X is then we can stop him before posting any chapters about you._

“You were about to say ‘or me’,” I smile-laugh. “But the next chapter after Liam’s is going to be about the behind the scenes which isn’t ‘thrilling’ to the fans or the media so I have to think which chapter is going to be next.”

_Oh look, Mr X has posted it. Do you want me to read it out loud?_

“Yeah, I’m too busy clogging up my lungs,” I say, blowing out smoke and listen to Niall’s soothing Irish accent.

_Ok here goes: Can’t believe Liam James Payne! Do you know what he did? Or more importantly, do you know what I found out? So, as Louis was out practicing for his football match for this Thursday, he asked me to take tickets to Eleanor to attend the match and since Nick cancelled our shopping date, I had to go. Plus Louis heard Nick cancel so I couldn’t exactly lie. Wow Harry, you were so whipped already._

“Shut up,” I say. “Keep reading.”

_So I took the tickets, called Ed up because quite frankly I can’t stand Eleanor alone or I might as well kill her or something. Seriously Harry, you hated Eleanor this much. Anyway, let me keep reading. Where was I? You know your handwriting is really terrible and here I thought it was bad_ now.

“Do you want me to read by myself?” I groan. “Because I will.”

_Fine fine I’m stopping. Where was I… Something about hating Eleanor, oh yeah. Okay. So Ed and I drove to El’s house to give her the tickets and after that we were going to go to King’s girlfriend’s bar for free drinks. YASS!! But holy shit! WE DIDN’T FIND ELEANOR NOR DID WE GO FOR THOSE DRINKS!! So I called Danielle, asking where Eleanor was and she said she went to her sister’s place, Gretchen, and she told us where to go. I randomly asked her if she would wanna come with us and Ed looked at me weirdly and I don’t know why._

“I now see why he did,” I realize. “He thought I was hitting on her but I wasn’t. We’re just good friends.”

_You’re becoming smarter old champ. Where was I? Oh yeah… So we drove to Dani’s dancing studio and headed to Gretchen’s place after. Looking at it now I see it was a bad idea to bring her and I’ll forever regret it and even though Dani will never read this I want to sincerely apologize. So Ed and I rang the bell, being the gentleman_ he _is hahaha what a loser! Anyway, we go in and Danielle calls out Gretchen’s name, Ed and I sit on the sofas. Next thing we know Danielle is screaming and we rush to where she is and you’ll never guess what!?_

“This is the best part,” I interrupt him

_It’s like a soap opera reading these entries. If I knew that your diary was this good I’d have stolen it a long time ago, holy shit! Okay stop interrupting and let me continue. Now where was I? Oh right, guess what?! WE DID FIND ELEANOR… NOT GRETCHEN. And she wasn’t alone. She was with….. gueeeesssssssss!!! L.I.A.M. J.A.M.E.S… Oh my gosh, it was Liam she was sleeping with?! Liam Payne??_

“Yup,” I say when Niall stops reading Payne’s name and mid-screams, mid-talks the entire time, mostly with surprise. “Calm down Niall and keep reading.”

_Did you.. okay okay, I’m calm right now. So where was I? Oh right. She was with Liam, between sheets, fucking her brains out. I don’t know what was worse, the fact that it was Liam or she screamed his name when Danielle entered. Danielle started screaming names at Liam, calling him a cheater and whatnot then calling Eleanor a slut and stuff. All the while, they tried to get dressed and awkwardly, Ed and I were standing on their clothes. Really Harry, that’s so awkward. Uh where was I? Danielle picked up them up and threw them on the bed, along with lamps, spoons and stuff, screaming and crying and shit and OMG it was pure chaotic I can’t even describe it. Ed tried to calm her down when she raced for Liam but being a dancer, she was strong and pushed him away and jumped for Eleanor, pulling her hair. Liam tried to explain to Danielle, saying that it was Eleanor’s fault that they were in this. I don’t know what came over me but I punched Liam in the face, hard. Oh really Harry, you go dude! Ed came to help and punched him too, his nose starting to bleed and his left eye already red. Really Harry, this is making stuff up now._

“It actually does sound like a soap opera but it’s true,” I say, remembering Danielle crying on the floor when Eleanor and Liam managed to run away.

_I don’t think I need to read the rest. All it says is you guys took Danielle back home… you stayed with her… Ed went home… and you called me up to go to the match, lying to Louis about… oh my gosh, I remember this stuff. I was there. You told Louis that she wasn’t feeling well so she couldn’t make it for the football match. You liar!_

“I couldn’t tell him,” I confess.

_You like Louis don’t you though?_

“Yeah.”

_I don’t get it then. You could’ve told him that Eleanor cheated on Liam but you didn’t. You lied to him._

“And Eleanor thanked me for it for days on end for it,” I say.

_Why? Louis would’ve dumped her ass and you my awesome half-Spanish would be dating Louis by now. You’d be so happy-_

I interrupt him. “I know what I’d be by now if I did that. But when you love someone so much, and you know they’ll never like you back, it hurts like a bitch. So when an opportunity for them to love you back opens up-”

_You take it!_

“Yes, you take it. And I did Niall. I love him so much sometimes I feel like my heart is going to friggin’ explode. And if you really love someone, all you want to give them is happiness even if that happiness doesn’t involve you. So I let him go for the second time in my life because if he was to find happiness, I wouldn’t give it to him. Eleanor would.”

_Is this because you’re gay?_

“Yes and no. If we were together in any way he would constantly think about what people think of us, why people are hating us just because two people are in love even though it’s clear as day it’s because we’re gay and not everyone accepts homosexuality. He’s that type of person Niall, highly oblivious. Which is another reason I couldn’t tell him she cheated, because he’s heard it so many times from me he just wouldn’t listen and Liam sure as hell wasn’t speaking about it-”

_Because he got back together with Danielle. I get it now. I’m sorry Hazza. But Liam Payne is a cheater???? Hard to believe. At least the worst part is over._

“It’s just began Niall.”

_What does that mean?_

“He’s going to post the diary entry where I say I’m gay and I’m in love with my band mate, Louis Tomlinson.”

 

*****

**_Harry Styles_ ** _@Harry_Styles 10:30PM  
It’s a treasure hunt right now._

****

**_Mr X_ ** _@mrX 10:32PM  
@Harry_Styles It sure is _

 

I sigh and click on my DM icon on Twitter. I immediately tweet to Raghdad

**@Harry_Styles:** Are you there?

**@StylesMyFace:** YASSSSSSSSSSSSSS Twitter is going bonkers right now!!

**@Harry_Styles:** What’s happening? I’ve seen #LiamTheCheater, We Are Sorry Danielle, #PrayFor Zayn, Elounor vs Larry, but idk what they mean

**@StylesMyFace:** People don’t like Liam now and he’s losing so many followers Harry! We’re sending sweet messages to Danielle and thanks for punching him too. Sooo many charity orgs have joined us…

**@StylesMyFace:**...in sending money to Zayn’s family, and we all think Mr X is Niall because he hasn’t released a chapter about him.

**@Harry_Styles:** Niall isn’t Mr X for sure. You do know Zayn is a millionaire, no need to send money to him. It was nothing really, felt right to do it and I can really punch haha

**@StylesMyFace:** ahaahhaHAHHAHAHA have you seen your muscles? HOLY GUNS MY SHIT BALLS!!!!

 

I log off Twitter and log onto Skype and thank goodness Niall is online.

**McNialler** : heeeyyy Harry!

**JUSTKING, GRIMMY** and **Vegas Girl** have been added to this conversation.

**JUSTKING:** HEEEY NIALL, LONG TIME NO SEE. HOW’S THE COCAINE?

**McNialler** : what cocaine?

**Edward Cullen:** You guys, something isn’t right and I feel it. Mr X is going to post the chapter where I come out of the closet next, Entry 040.

**Vegas Girl:** How do you know? The last entry was 029 about Liam, why skip all of those from 30 to 39?

**Edward Cullen:** Because it’s “news worthy”. The entire world is going to go crazy with a new gay in town, especially from the world’s biggest boy band in the world Harry Styles.s

**GRIMMY** : What’s the plan then Hazza?

**Edward Cullen:** I don’t know! What should I do?

**JUSTKING:** YOU CAN COME OUT.

**McNialler:** absolutely not!

**Edward Cullen** : Gaah I don’t think we have a choice. I have to come out of the closet and I can’t let someone else do that for me. I’m not a coward like that.

**Vegas Girl:** Are you sure? This is something huge!

**Edward Cullen:** We made a promise on Ed’s grave to stop our addictions, didn’t we? I promised that I would come out, finally get over my fear with being a hanger in the closet. I owe it to Ed to uphold that promise.

**JUSTKING:** I PROMISED THAT I WOULD STOP DRINKING AND I’M 2 MONTHS SOBER… NOT MUCH TO SHOW FOR IT BUT IT’S SOMETHING.

**GRIMMY:** It is King, don’t worry about it. And I stopped chain smoking and shagging random men.

**Vegas Girl:** Apart from Harry ;)

**GRIMMY:** Anytime for Harry ;-]

**Edward Cullen:** This is embarrassing.

**McNialler:** this is all new to me! but Harry and Nick used to have sex???????

**JUSTKING:** ALL THE FUCKING TIME AND IT’S ALWAYS AWKWARD BECAUSE THEY JUST GET INTO IT WHENEVER THE URGE COMES… WHENEVER NIALL, WHENEVER!

**Edward Cullen:** Can we not talk about MY sex life?

**McNialler:** on the regular?!

**GRIMMY:** Seriously Niall?!

**JUSTKING:** YEAH JUST FUCKING WHEREVER AND WHENEVER THE URGE CAME. YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE AT TIMES JUST TO SEE IT HAPPEN. THERE WAS A TIME ME AND ED HEARD THEM IN THE NEXT ROOM IN OUR HOTEL IN VEGAS BY ACCIDENT. I SWEAR I HAVE NEVER RUN OUT OF A ROOM FASTER THAN A MAN RUNNING FROM A FIRE IN MY ENTIRE LIFE THAN THAT DAY.

**Vegas Girl:** King, remember when they almost got caught by the police in Woodburrow??

**JUSTKING:** OH YEAH!!!!!!!!!!

**McNialler:** what happened in Woodburrow?!

**GRIMMY:** Nothing happened! Can we talk about Harry? Or more like WHO IS MR X???

**JUSTKING:** YOU DON’T WANT US TO TALK ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE WITH THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE? HAHA NICK

**McNialler:** “love of your life”?!

**Vegas Girl:** Let me bring you up to speed: Nicholas Grimshaw is in love, 100% in love, with Harry Styles but Harry Styles is in love, TRULY, MADLY and DEEPLY with Louis Tomlinson who is in love with Eleanor Calder who had sex with Liam Payne who had sex with her best friend, Danielle Peazer. And the circle ends there. What a charmer!

**McNialler:** WOW! It’s like a soap opera shit! I’m sorry Hazza :(

**Edward Cullen:** Used to it. So, who do we think is Mr X?

**GRIMMY:** So far we know that whoever stole Harry’s diary could easily enter your apartment meaning that they had the key…

**Edward Cullen:** Everyone has a spare key

**GRIMMY:** Who was where on that day though? We know Harry was at home, Liam Skyped Hazza a few minutes before and was with Sophia after, Louis went to see El in Manchester, Zayn went out with Perrie and was seen with her by fans, Niall was having a BBQ.

**Edward Cullen:** That’s the jist of it.

**JUSTKING:** EXCEPT ONE OF THEM IS LYING. BUT WHO?

**Edward Cullen:** So either Louis, Zayn or Liam.

**Vegas Girl:** Or Niall.

**McNialler:** how many times do I have to say this! It’s not me!

**Edward Cullen:** it’s not Niall, Conor.

**Vegas Girl:** It could be him, no hard feelings Niall.

**McNialler:** Offense taken!

**Edward Cullen:** Listen, if Mr X didn’t write about Niall then the entire world will obviously think it’s Niall, right? That Niall is Mr X. That’s what Mr X wants you to think, Mr X putting the blame on somebody else, like sort of a distraction from the real thing.

**JUSTKING:** SO WE DON’T LISTEN TO HIM?

**Edward Cullen:** Exactly! Someone is framing him. I can’t believe I’m saying this but it could be either Liam, Louis or Zayn framing Niall.

**GRIMMY:** It doesn’t make sense though. Why would they go to torture Harry if it’s Niall they’re after?

**Edward Cullen:** They’re after me in the end, forcing me to come out of the closet. Oh wait guys what if this is Ed haunting me from the grave? He’s the one who wanted me to come out so badly..

**Vegas Girl:** KK, we’re going out of topic here. So far we know Niall is being framed, Mr X wants Harry out of the closet and we have 3 suspects. So far so good?

**JUSTKING:** THEN THAT MEANS THIS IS AN **INSIDE** JOB. SOMETHING THE 5 OF YOU DISAGREED ON, SOMETHING THAT SOMEONE HAS A GRUDGE ON SOMEONE AND IS DRAGGING THE ENTIRE WORLD INTO IT. WHY? WHY WOULD MR X, WHO IS ONE OF YOUR BAND MATES, INVOLVE THE ENTIRE WORLD?

**Vegas Girl:** They get the media’s attention on the band before the album release… that’s a pretty good reason, a dumb one but still good.

**GRIMMY:** Maybe they want Harry out? Now that the whole world is onto Mr X, the bigger the amount of people know Harry is gay.

**McNialler:** well liam wants Harry out of the band! and right now so does Zayn and Louis!

**Edward Cullen:** NOT LOUIS!

**Vegas Girl:** Let’s not get out of hand. We at least have 3 suspects. And one of them is lying about where they were.

**JUSTKING:** ZAYN WAS SEEN BY FANS, LIAM WAS WITH SOPHIA, NIALL WAS HAVING A BBQ AND LOUIS WAS WITH EL IN MANCHESTER. SO WHO WASN’T WHERE THEY SAID THEY WERE?

**GRIMMY:** This is like some shitty episode of CSI or Sherlock. And stop adding Niall, it’s pissing Harry off.

**McNialler:** y’know, let’s talk tomorrow early morning about this!

**JUSTKING:** IT’LL BE TOO LATE. WE GOTTA FIND WHO HAS MOTIVE! WHO HAS MOTIVE FOR HARRY TO COME OUT!

**GRIMMY:** We have to do this before Harry comes out of the closet Niall! And everyone has motive King.

**McNialler:** but we’re at a dead end! there’s nothing more we can do but sleep on it and come back in the morning. Mr X posts his entries, weird enough, at night.

**Edward Cullen:** That’s a good plan guys, we come here tomorrow. ‘Night

**JUSTKING:** BYE H! BREAKFAST AT 11 AS USUAL?

**Edward Cullen:** Yeah

**JUSTKING** has left the conversation.

**GRIMMY:** I love you H.

**Edward Cullen:** I love you too

**GRIMMY** and **Vegas Girl** have left the conversation.

**McNialler:** do you want me to go to!

**Edward Cullen:** I’m about to come out to the world. I’m shitting bricks right here Niall, I’m smoking too much, drank half a bottle of champagne, gin, whiskey, … whatever there is in here! But the fear is still there!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**McNialler:** it’ll always be there! Where’s Louis btw?

**Edward Cullen:** He’s still in Doncaster. What do I do?

**McNialler:** Listen Hazza, I know a part of you still wonders if I did it! If I’m the one who stole your diary but I will prove you wrong. I will find out who did this, who stole the diary and is ruining us.

**Edward Cullen:** You don’t have to and I know 100% that you didn’t steal it.

**McNialler:** But I need to know who is framing me! and I will find out by tonight, or before tomorrow when we all come back on Skype.  & as for you, you go write those songs Simon asked you before you go to a mental hospital.

**Edward Cullen:** I’m not going, don’t worry Niall

**McNialler:** I can’t lose you Hazza, we’re family! The 5 of us are a family and I think we just forgot that. We’ve grown apart in the last 3 years, almost four, sucked in our own lives trying to make it better. Zayn is gaining Perrie’s trust, Liam is working out his issues with Sophia because of the whole Eleanor thing, Eleanor is asking Louis for forgiveness who is spending hours and hours in Doncaster with Stan and me and you? We’re acting in a CSI movie shit. Except this is real life.

**Edward Cullen:** haha Niall, you always know how to make me laugh.

**McNialler:** But I’m happy we have each other… no homo!

**Edward Cullen:** hahaha I’m happy too. See you tomorrow?

**McNialler:** Definitely! take care Haz!

**EDWARD CULLEN** has left the conversation.


	23. [Going Under]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Niall figure out who Mr X is before Harry tells the world his dark secret ?

Click.

 

Click.

Open.

Click.

Type.

[www.yahoo.com](http://www.yahoo.com)

Click.

Type.

Username:harrybigdickstyles@yahoo.co.uk

Password:**************

Inbox.

“Three hundred and thirty-five emails?” I question, scanning through my inbox.

 _Don’t you ever read your email?_ my inner god splutters.

“Oh look, Tristan emailed me yesterday,” I glee. _Open it, open it!!_

Click.

 

 **From:** Tristan Soten

 **To:** Harry Styles

 **Date:** October 24th, 2013 7:13PM

 **Subject:** I MISS YOU!

 

I spilled baking powder all over the kitchen floor attempting to make pancakes and I thought of you darling. Do not be surprised, I am getting better… Unless you want to help me bake?

I miss you. Tomorrow, 8PM?

Your Diva Boy

Tristan

 

“OMG!” I swoon, acting like a complete teenage girl. “He actually emailed me. Me, Harry!”

 _What are you going to say?_ my inner god questions, fanning himself.

“I know,” I say, licking my lips, deep in thought. I press REPLY when I’m done. “I hope he’ll reply. But this is not why I came. I came to send an email to Simon.”

 _And what’s that?_ my inner god asks.

“I’m finally sending my songs to Simon,” I say, smiling proudly. “He’ll probably get a heart attack, won’t he? That I, the procrastinator, bad boy, evil, monster of a son of a bitch, finally sent in my songs for the album that’s being released on Sunday.”

Click.

New.

 **From:** Harry Styles

 **To:** Simon Cowell

 **Date:** October 25th, 2013 5:52AM

 **Subject:** Midnight Memories SONGS

 **Attachment[s]:** 3 documents, 1 photo

 

Finally wrote my songs SIMON and here they are alllllllll here so if you lose this email, not my fault.

The songs are: Something Great, Don’t let me go, Happily, and Strong.

 

And before I forget, I’ve also quit the band [One Direction that is, the band you want me OUT OF, well guess what, I’m out! Out before you could kick me out forcefully] and you will see my resignation later attached.

 

XOXO,

HARRY

 

 

 _I still don’t why you’re sending the email at 5 in the morning!_ my inner god looks at his watch.

 

“This way he won’t reply the message and ask my questions about why I’m quitting or why I’m… yeah, why I’m quitting,” I say, wondering why my voice is loud in the this empty, humongous apartment and then it hits me: I’m talking to myself and Louis isn’t here and for the first time in a gazillion months, I’m not sad because he’s not with Eleawhore, he went to Doncaster to see his family, crying his heart out because that slag cheated on him with Liam Payne. Funny enough, Sophia is still with Liam but the BFFs aren’t talking at all i.e. Danielle and Eleanor. And why do I know all this? I wonder.

 

“I’m being stereotypically gay right now,” I shake my head, running my hand through hair. “And why don’t I have curls? And why am I being so random right now?

 

 _Was that necessary H? The XOXO?_ my inner god asks.

“Yes, I look like a bitch, don’t I?” I smirk, tipping back the gin bottle in my hand. “And he’s replied already.”

 

 **From:** Simon Cowell

 **To:** Harry Styles

 **Date:** October 25th, 2013 6:02AM

 **RE:** Midnight Memories SONGS

 

You absolutely CANNOT quit the band. We need to talk about this. I was joking about sending you to an asylum or the mental hospital.

Simon Cowell

 

 

 **From:** Simon Cowell

 **To:** Harry Styles

 **Date:** October 25th, 2013 6:05PM

 **RE:** Midnight Memories SONGS

 

There’s nothing to talk about Simon, I’m out of the band and that’s the end of it.

Let me go SIMON!

XOXO

Harry Styles

 

 

 **From:** Simon Cowell

 **To:** Harry Styles

 **Date:** October 25th, 2013 6:08PM

 **RE:** Midnight Memories SONGS

 

Absolutely not!

Simon Cowell

“This is not going to end,” I say, signing out from my e-mail. “And now for plan two, calling Liam.”

 

*****

**_Louis Tomlinson_ ** _@Louis_Tomlinson_

_Not all paps are twats! Even band members are twats aka @Harry_Styles_

**_Liam Payne_ ** _@Real_Liam_Payne_

_I’ve apologized before and I apologize once again, I was not in the right state of mind in doing what I did with @eleanorjcalder but twitlonger.com/show/n_1s19m08_

**_Zayn Malik_ ** _@zaynmalik1D_

_I’m glad I’m over my drug addiction and living positively with Perrie @LittleMix Offic <3_

**_Mr X_ ** _@mrX_

_The next entry (040) is a good one! We learn the truth about @Harry_Styles instagram.com/p/jamSNeMw1r/#_

 

The morning and afternoon of the same day, Niall spends it solving the identity of Mr X and it was about time. He knows the entry that Mr X is posting today, 040, is _the_ gay entry; the entry where Harry came out… to his diary. But now if Niall does not figure out who Mr X is, he technically would be coming out to the world.

“C’mon Niall let’s do this,” he tells himself. He snips out a small bag of white coke and lays it on the table, already forming lines with his credit card. He rolls up a ten pound note and sniffs all four lines by himself without batting an eyelid.

Harry already called him at 11, along with King, asking if he had figured it out but he didn’t. He still had no clue who could be Mr X. This wasn’t just one of the mysteries like on CSI or The Mentalist. He was dealing with people he knows, people he’s grown to call brothers and would even lay down his life for them. But lately that has changed; one of them is framing him [for absolute no reason!] and here he was, for three years, thinking they were tight as ever.

Tight. Closer knit.

“Stop thinking about that,” Niall tells himself. “Think about Harry!”

And that’s what he did. He thought about the first day he saw met Harry going to London when Simon called all of those who passed the auditions. When they were separated and put into groups to dance, sing, act, anything to remove the weak ones. And now that he thinks about it, he always saw Harry with his stupid beanie everywhere [and always with a girl, now that he thought about it!] but funny how they never spoke one word to each other yet now they’re brothers!

His phone beeps and he sees a text from Harry.

_Liam let me use his Youtube account. I’m going to come out on there in 30 min .xx_

Niall groans. He has 30 minutes to figure out **who** Mr X is before Harry comes out. He shakes his head, gets up quickly, grabs his keys and gets into his car. He heard people usually think better when driving but maybe that’s just the cocaine in his body talking. He types in Harry’s apartment address and accelerates quickly.

“15 minutes to go,” Niall groans, checking the time. He quickly swerves to the left side of the road and turns off his car. He slams both his hands on the wheel. And again. And again. And one more time.

“Why? Why can’t I know who it is?” Niall questions. “It’s only 3 people! Three people and I can’t figure out who it is… it’s just three people. Liam, Zayn or Louis… who would want Harry to come out? Who?”

He checks his phone and sees Liam has texted him:

_Do you know what Harry is up to? He’s using my Youtube channel but didn’t say why?_

 

**_Niall:_ ** _Naah man, I don’t.!_

 

**_Liam:_ ** _Oh okay, is he having a livestream?_

 

**_Niall:_ ** _Probably._

“It could be Liam,” Niall thinks out loud. Or it could be Zayn. Or Louis. “13 minutes. 13.”

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

He got it.

Niall figured it out. He figured it out from black and white.

“Of course!” he slaps his forehead. “Of course he’s Mr X. How could I not see it? It’s so obvious! Why is it always so obvious when you know who it is.”

Of course it was _him_. I mean, it’s the one person who KNEW Harry, who really knew him. The one who knew him from the X Factor days, from the start! The one who could sense Harry’s pain, the one who completely understood him for three years now. The one who understood why Harry was smoking two cigarettes at a time, why he drank from bottles even he couldn’t pronounce, why he was becoming distant, becoming more angry…

But most importantly, it killed _him_ every single day for letting Harry go. For seeing the signs that the old Harry was disappearing into the media and not doing anything about it. Niall understood that he did want to help, in _his_ own crooked way, but _he_ didn’t. And that’s why he was doing this. That’s why he was making Harry come out of the closet because he was finally trying to save Harry.

“Why did you let him go?” Niall cries angrily to the face of Mr X in his head.

He turns the key and the Range roars to life. He has 10 minutes left to reach Harry’s apartment and stop him before coming out. HE could do this.

“Harry,” he screams, slamming the gas pedal. In a short 3 minutes, he arrives at Harry’s apartment, slams the door because crap, he knows who Mr X is and they decide to lock the door? Now?

“What?” Louis opens in angrily but smiles seeing it’s only Niall. Then frowns. “What’s wrong? Have you been running? Why were you running when you have a car? You-”

“I know… who… Mr X is,” he pants in between words, holding the wall for support. Liam and Zayn come to the door. “We have to stop Harry.”

“There’s one problem,” Liam says.

“What?” he pants, his hands on his knees. “Better make it quick before I collapse you guys. It’s been years since I’ve been running.”

“Harry’s not here,” Louis says.

He pants. “What?”

“He’s gone,” Liam says. “And we don’t know where.”

“Why didn’t you save him?” Niall shouts at Mr X but it looks like he was shouting at all of them. “Why?”

“What are you on about Niall?” Liam asks, helping him up.

“You could have saved him,” Niall gushes as Liam holds him up and walks him inside the apartment.

“What’s he talking about?” Louis questions.

“Niall, are you okay?” Zayn asks.

“You could have saved him but you’re torturing him right now. You have no idea what he’s been up to since yesterday, keeping himself up at night, drinking water but it’s actually alcohol, smoking, crying his eyes out… you know what’s he doing because you understand. So I’m asking you please don’t let him do this-”

“What are you saying Niall?” Liam questions.

“This is going to kill him and you know it. You may have thought you lost Harry but you haven’t. You can still save him. You have a chance of bringing the old Harry back. You can start by not posting the next entry and trust me Harry will forgive you for it. You just-”

“He’s talking sicko. I think he’s dehydrated,” Zayn says and rushes back with a glass of water.

“I’m begging you please don’t let Harry do this,” Niall pleas his eyes looking at Mr X directly.

“Do what?” Louis questions.

“Come out of the closet,” he says.

Louis stares.

Niall stares back.

“He’s gay Louis,” he whispers. “Harry is gay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gasps for 984236 years*


	24. [X Factor]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry makes a big announcement.

_This is the hardest story that I've ever told_  
_No hope, or love_  
_Happy endings gone forever more_ _**~ Mika**_

“I hope this is working.” Harry looked straight at the camera, sitting cross-legged on the grass on this sunny Friday. “I’m not used to doing this by myself so hopefully this works.

This was it.

Harry had set up the whole live stream – that’s what Directioners thought it was – and was adjusting the camera so his big head of curls could all fit on a tiny screen. He fiddled with something to his left, pulling out a blue beanie.

“Is this what he’s going to do now?” Louis questioned as Harry introduced himself. After they had gotten Niall to calm down, explain what he meant by Harry being gay [“He’s into men, Louis, men,” Liam explained], called King, Nick and Conor up and together, all sat semi-circle around the Louis’ Macbook, watching Harry put his curls under his beanie.

“600, 009 views?” Zayn gasped, reading the Views count and it kept on rising by 50, 000 every 20 seconds.

Harry nervously laughed before speaking again. “Wow, this is hard for me. So recently Mr X rose from the ashes and is spilling all my secrets to the world and he’s posting a new entry today evening… an entry that I wasn’t prepared to tell anyone but Mr X is not going to make a coward out of me so I’ll do what Mr X is going to do… I hope that makes sense.”

“He looks nervous,” Louis noted. His eyebrows were raised, his heart rate elevated and was eating a whole container of ice cream. By himself.

“Of course he is, he’s about to come out of the closet,” Nick rolled his eyes. He glanced at him, shook his head and then back at Harry. This was all Louis’ fault, he thought to himself.

“So… I think I’ll start from the beginning because if I start halfway you will all be confused and also I’m on a time limit of 20 minutes. This isn’t a Twitcam but more of a… well, you figure that out in the end. Okay, here we go,” he introduced. He straightens himself up, blinked several times, replaced his beanie with a beige fedora [“That stupid hat,” King said] and moved the camera, giving a guess to where he was.

“Where is he?” Liam asked. He saw he was seated on what looked like… grass? Behind him were many evergreen trees, he could see two small children playing together in the middleground, a couple kissing on the grass in the background, and a boy who threw a freebie and a dog chased it, its tongue wagging in the wind in the far distance. “I think he’s in a park.”

“What park?” Zayn asked but no one replied as Harry continued talking through the small laptop screen.

“My name is Harry Edward Styles and I am living with a huge secret. A secret that will change my life by the end of this video and I can’t do anything to stop it. Where do I begin? Once upon a time I was born in Cheshire but my life story actually starts when I was sixteen and went for X Factor auditions on a Sunday in April, 2010. I remember I woke up so early, got ready and took a bus with my sisters Georgia and Gemma. Eventually I got there and crap, the line was humongous. I didn’t think I stood a chance because there were people camped out in tents playing guitars, others singing better than me, and here I was debating whether I should leave or not. Before I left I saw this guy with a camera and a microphone come up to me and said he loved my curls and wanted to film me. He asked me a few questions about my life and I said I work in a bakery and I was here with my sisters.”

“Why didn’t he come with his mother?” Zayn asked.

Niall shrugged. “Nobody knows why.”

“They weren’t close,” Conor said. Louis mouthed ‘oh’ and resumed watching Harry explain his life story. His gaze dropped to the side of the live stream and saw comments, all talking to Harry, most of them asking for a follow back [typical fans!] and others guessing what his secret was.

“Harry,” he whispered. Liam, who heard him, looked at him, his brow raised. “Nothing.”

“Most of you have always wondered what’s behind the ‘Hi’ and ‘Oops’ story of me and Louis. I guess today you’ll know. So before I was to sing my song, I went to the bathroom because nerves really make me want to pee so badly” – Harry laughed – “so in I went. I went to the urinals and started peeing and singing my song for practice. Then this guy, with a thicker British accent than mine, walks in huffing, his cheeks red, he looked really nervous in general. So he whips out his massive, almighty dick” – the lads laughed – “and because he’s angry he actually splashes his pee on my dick! Me!! I gaped at him from the mirror in front of us, not sure if I should beat him or pee on him as well… and now when I think about it, it was more of he was a beautiful creature to look at and not because he peed on me. So he said “Oops” and instead of being angry and probably having a dick fight” – he chuckled – “I said “Hi”. I actually said hi to him! Who does that?”

“People in love obviously,” Nick commented.

“Ditto,” Conor agreed.

“And then after that we both just clicked I guess cause we started talking about the auditions and everything. He told me not to think too much about it, I would be fine and Simon isn’t as bad as he seems which Lou was wrong about. Simon is as bad as he seems. Probably worse than he seems.”

“That’s true,” Zayn agreed.

“He’s not that bad,” Louis said. He added, after reading comments on the screen. “And fans agree with me.”

“What else? I won the auditions but that was just the beginning. The beginning of everything! During Bootcamp, we were put into groups to sing, we had to dance and I remember Zayn pleading with Simon saying he couldn’t dance,” – Zayn sank into his chair in embarrassment. Seconds later, #ICantDanceSimon trended – “ we basically had to act like we had already made it into the industry. Finally, after working my butt off and losing I got put into a group with four other formidable lads: Liam Payne, Zayn Malik, Niall Horan and the Louis Tomlinson, the one who peed on my dick,” – he paused and looked down at his lap – “Ironic, really. Basically, the four of us, or five including me, bonded a lot during the Bootcamp days, rumors started about the five of us but the thing I loved so much was that I made awesome friends that I truly love and treasure with my whole heart up to today.”

Niall blushed. “Aww.”

“That’s so sweet,” Zayn remarked.

“Such a sap!” King said.

“Are you crying?” Nick asked.

“Sounds like Harry,” Conor said, clinking his beer with King’s.

Louis verbally jumped at him. “So if he’s crying? What’s it to you?”

“What the hell?” Nick rolled his eyes back to the laptop.

“And for four years, we did everything together.” – his eyes open wide –“Literally everything. We went through the hardships of touring, drama and yes, there was a lot of drama. More than we actually let on. But enough about that. I’m getting ahead of myself here. So as everybody knows, we didn’t win the X Factor in 2010 and now when I look at it, I could’ve actually just left the band but because we had become so close, practically brothers, I possibly couldn’t leave them. There was nothing I was going to go back to in Cheshire so I remained. So we got signed with Modest! which was the beginning of Hell. I used to think Holmes Chapel was hell for me but no, it wasn’t. I was horribly wrong.”

“What does he mean by hell?” Louis asked.

“Obviously his home,” King said. Louis eyed King angrily and back to the laptop, wondering why Niall invited him over.

“Guys, if you’ve forgotten we’re trying to see where he is and stop him from coming out of the closet,” Niall reminded them. Louis and King huffed and listened to the lad with the fedora.

“Modest! is not one you want to sign with. They’re like the Devil’s spawn or something and they crush you like waves. They control every aspect of your life, you can’t do anything without their approval. They’ll turn you into something you’re not like dating a line of girls that you don’t even fancy which, and yes, that includes Lana Del Ray, Emily Ostilly and to be honest I don’t know what Modest was thinking about me dating her, some model, Miley Cyrus, Caroline Flack which was the only relationship that was real, Kendall Jenner, Brenda Wairimu, Taylor Swift, uhh who else have I dated?” – he paused to think.

“He’s seriously thinking who he’s dated?” Conor questioned.

“Fans seem to know,” Niall said, reading fans comments below the video of Harry’s lips pouted, his brows frowned on his pretty face, thinking absolutely hard.

“Well who cares, right? What else? Uhh oh yeah, Modest!. They hide who you are, they change you, they really do and for a while I thought they were doing this because we deserved this because we were worth all the trouble and lies. I thought they genuinely did this for us, for us, for us” – he continued chanting ‘for us’ – “but one day I stopped thinking that. I stopped and thought why would they constantly want to change us? I mean, we were worth so much more, we deserved somebody better to represent Liam, Niall, Zayn, Louis and I. So much more. So then I realized that our fans were right, they knew the real Modest!; they knew they were evil and to be honest, everything from then on was a blur.”

“That part is true,” Liam nodded.

“Aren’t we meant to be figuring out where H is not commenting on what he’s saying?” Conor questioned the lads.

Louis spoke first before Nick. “Right. He’s in a park that we’ve been to before but I can’t quite put my finger on it. If only he could shift his camera.”

“We could ask him,” Liam said as Conor typed on the Macbook. “Though I have a feeling he won’t reply. He’s been ignoring us all and the last person he talked to here was Niall which was this morning.”

“What park Nick?” King asked more fiercely, a cigarette dangling between his lips. Nick shrugged, as well as Louis when King looked up at him. “Great, you do know he’s leaving to Sicily right after this live stream thing.”

Zayn asked. “Which airport?”

“Heathrow,” King rolled his eyes. “Or where was he to get a flight? The Underground?”

“Back to your house hopefully,” Louis muttered, gesturing at Nick.

Nick furrowed his bushy brows. “What’s your problem Louis?”

“Okay guys, calm down. We’re here for Harry not for us,” Liam said, looking at each and every person in the room, calming down the temperatures.

Harry’s mood lightens up. His eyes glow like the sun behind him, his dimples dig deeper into his face and the crinkles by his eyes double. “Then I met King, Nick, Ed and Conor. Well, Conor came later but still, I met them and we instantly clicked. For once in a long time I felt relief. For years I felt like my head was under water for quite some time and I finally came out for air. Do you know what that feels like? It feels magical, fantastical, beautiful, amazing,” – he throws his arm in the air – “just… I don’t know. Oh how could I forget; the fans also made me feel alive too. You guys all did!”

“He’s so sweet,” Nick smiled. On Twitter, #YoureOurHeroHarry began to trend worldwide as well as in 6 countries.

“He’s always been sweet what’s your point?” Louis questioned sarcastically.

“My point is if you got some of his sweetness then you wouldn’t be some mean sarcastic loser who can keep a girl on his leash,” Nick smiled wickedly, hinting at Eleanor. Louis sprang to his feet and dived for Nick who was on the floor.

“How dare you!” Louis growled punching Nick who blocked all his punches. “I still love her you bastard!”

“And Harry loves you, you bastard but you were too dumb to see that and also to see your girlfriend, Eleanor, cheating on you,” Nick voiced back. Niall and King jumped to their feet heaving Louis off Nick as Conor and Zayn pulled Nick back from jumping back to Louis.

“I’m sorry Louis,” Liam apologized on behalf of Eleanor.

“You shut it!” Louis growled at him. “I’m still mad at you!”

“And yet Harry told you she was cheating,” Nick pointed out. “Even your own 12 year old fans told you that your fame whore girlfriend was cheating but you wouldn’t listen.”

“That part is true,” Niall shrugged as Louis eyed him badly. When did Niall join Team Nick?

“Guys you missed Harry coming out,” Conor shouted, everybody momentarily freezing on the post.

“...there I said it and now Mr X can post the stupid entry from my diary where I said I was gay. Yes, this is the entry where I wrote down that I was gay and reading your comments” – his eyes shift to the left and down, reading fans comments – “ you don’t believe I’m gay so I’ll prove it. As predicted!”

Before anyone could question what he meant by ‘proving it’, Harry’s hands stretched to his laptop and he pushed it a little to his left, revealing a sunny, sunshine Tristan Soten.

“That’s him!” Louis said, remembering the picture he found under Harry’s bed when he was snooping around his room. “That’s Tristan. The Tristan?”

Liam asked. “Who’s Tristan?”

“How do you know him?” King asked.

“I found a picture of him under the bed and his initials on a condom,” Louis said. He paused and gasped midair as if realizing something. “Is…was that condom… did Harry and Tristan… with the condom?”

“Yes, yes they did,” Nick nodded.

“He is a fitty,” Liam smiled. “Good choice Harry.”

“Are you serious?”

“But he is Zayn, look at him!” Liam defended himself, his index finger touching the screen at Tristan whose face was inches close to Harry.

“I agree, he is,” Niall smiled.

“Same,” Conor slurred, having drunk too much. “And now kiss!”

Tristan hands, which were curled into Harry’s hair on the nape of his neck, and his on Tristan’s waist, grabbing his floral shirt nervously, moved his face to Harry’s, their noses bumping harmlessly, nervous giggles from Harry’s smiling mouth. Harry mouthed ‘I love you’ to Tristan, brushing his rosy lips with his. A moan escaped from the back of Harry’s throat as Tristan lovingly wrapping his lips with Harry’s plump lips, pulling him even closer to his body if that were even possible. In a messy swift, Harry broke the kiss for a nanosecond, arched his head further for better access, to greedily crush his lips onto the diva socialite’s. Harry’s hands snaked to hold onto Tristan’s jet hair, pulling him to the other half of the screen, passerby’s innocently looking at them.

Niall cursed , “Holy fuck!” and his mouth dropping to the floor, the rest of One Direction stunned just as much and equally.

“Harry!” Zayn mummed harshly, his eyeballs figuratively rolling off his orbits onto the carpet floor.

“No!” Louis gasped. He collapsed on the floor, his feet cross-legged. “He’s actually gay. He’s seriously and fully gay.”

“What did you think gay meant?” Nick questioned, taking a spot near him. Harry and Tristan, or Histan as Twitter fans called them now, continued kissing, Harry innocently sticking his tongue down Tristan’s burning throat. Niall and King eyed each other at Nick and Louis civilly sitting together on the floor. Weren’t these two idiots, just a second ago, punching the day lights out of each other?

“I thought he was joking,” Louis confessed. “I keep thinking this is an act.”

“Clearly it’s not, he’s still kissing this Tristan guy,” Liam said. Instantly, Harry broke the kiss, sucking on Tristan’s bottom lip at the finish line.

Harry turned to the camera, half laughing half smiling, as Tristan rested his head on Harry’s broad shoulders. “But it’s not Tristan who I love, it’s Louis Tomlinson.”

Everybody froze again.

“OMG! That’s you!” Nick screeched, clapping his hands and Louis shocked-smiled along with him.

“No way!” Liam said, not believing it. Niall was right this entire time. He knew all along? He knew everything?

“Me?”

“He did it!” Niall said, his eyes glued to the screen, “he actually came out. I really never thought he’d go through with it.”

“Yes you!” Nick gushed. “He’s irresistibly in love with an idiot like you!”

King agreed with Niall, “Me neither. I thought he was going to chicken out but he didn’t. And to top it off, he kissed a guy in public. A guy!”

Louis was still stunned as he watched Harry get up from his spot and run to the background. In seconds, Twitter crushed for literally minute due to the millions of fans going crazy over #larrystylinsonisREAL and it wasn’t just fan, it was media tabloids, people from other fandoms, the gays on Twitter, haters of One Direction, those accounts that you thought were dead but suddenly they were brimming with life like @Beyoncé!! Yes, Beyoncé herself tweeted about Larry Stylinson.

Niall who was gob smacked about Beyoncé, hugged Louis. “Freaking Beyoncé tweeted you! Queen Bee herself.” Louis, though, was speechless to say anything he was mesmerized by what Harry had just said. He, Harry, loved him, Louis.

“Harry loves me?”

“Yes dumbass!” Nick smiled. “You!”

Louis pointed at Nick. “But he’s always with you,” he said, his mind still confused, “kissing you every single second, from what I hear you occasionally hookup…”

“Yeah, so what? He’s seriously whipped about you,” Conor said. “Probably more than Zayn is of Perrie. He would actually tattoo your entire body on his arm just so he would feel like you’re always with him.”

A breath escaped from Harry plump lips. “I’m not so good with words but here’s this flower” – Harry lifted a red rose to his face – “or rose really. Louis is like this rose, he’s very very very pretty like it, smells good and whatnot” –he laughed nervously as Tristan rolled his eyes, still smiling – “He’s very good to look at and admire is what I am trying to say. But that’s not all…”

Tristan interrupted him. “You have 4 minutes.”

“Oh right,” Harry said, looking at his Rolex watch.

“Am I the only one who wanted to hear what he was going to say about Louis?” Conor questioned and they all nodded. “Damn Tristan then for being a cockblocker!”

“So here is where things get a bit hectic. Somehow Mark, who works for Modest! and our PR team led by Jill, found out I was gay and I was blackmailed into keeping it shut and to be honest I was so close to coming out but I didn’t.” – he shook his head – “I was close to telling Louis I loved him but I never did and I regret it. I wish I said it sooner but...” –he looked down at hi lap. Tristan then took his hand into his, thumb soothing his knuckles – “But I remained in the closet and I think it was a good thing because little by little I would read comments from fans about how being gay was disgusting, revolting even, especially if Larry was real, then from my own band members saying gay was wrong according to the Bible” – Zayn coughed uncomfortably – “and others thought two men kissing was the end of the world and with each of these comments, along with Elounor being better than Larry, because who would like a band that had a gay person, right? All this and more made it easier each day for me to run away. Frankly, I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t happy then, I am not happy now and I will not be happy if I continue to stay here. So today, I am off to Sicily…”

“Heinx Park,” Louis blurted out as Harry talked of his plans to tour the world, figuring everything about his life, especially now that he was openly gay.

“What?”

“The park where Harry is at, it’s called Heinx Park,” Louis muttered really quickly. “That’s where he is.”

Realization hit Nick too as he too saw why the park looked familiar. It’ where he came out to Harry, one of the first people he told. He mentally slapped himself as to why he didn’t figure it out earlier. He and Louis both stood up and headed for the door.

“C’mon let’s go,” King motioned for the rest to follow. All seven of them, squashed in a car, drove fast to the park in the hope of catching Harry before going to the airport.

“He’s still doing his live stream so we can catch him, hopefully,” Zayn said, low sounds of Harry being heard from his iPhone. King slammed on the brake of the car and fumbling with their seatbelt, they managed to get out and run to the park. It looked like a scene of a movie, Louis and Nick running faster than the rest, the sun’s rays lighting the path on the grass that their feet tromped on, increasing their speed, if that were even possible.

“C’mon Nick, we’re close,” Louis shouted in the air.

“Why is this park so big?” Nick gasped through each word. And running they did, one leg in front of the other, running and running, and the more they ran the more it felt they were running against time rather than catching up to Harry. “Fuck!” Nick gasped when they both stopped running.

“He was here,” Louis said, seeing the couple _still_ sitting on a blanket, drinking wine with cheese. How were they still here?

“There,” Nick pointed straight and off they ran to the spot. “We missed him,” Nick said when they didn’t spot Harry nor Tristan. However they found the rose he was holding and a note. Louis grabbed the small envelope and ripped it open, anxious to read what was inside. “I’ll be back before you miss me, H xx, ” Louis read out loud.

“You guys are so fast,” King panted, finally catching up to them. Niall was second, his face as red as a tomato. “I’m so unfit,” Niall heaved, his butt falling to the ground.

Louis, gutted, said, “We missed him!”

“Airport!” Nick said, knowing that’s where Harry was heading [obviously].

“Crap!” Niall cursed.

“Owh hell no,” King shook his head. “We just got here!”

And again, the four of them ran, meeting Liam, Zayn and Conor running on the way back who turned back as well and once again, they looked like a scene from a movie, running in slow motion. Doors were clicked open, shut,[no one fastens their seatbelts when catching up to someone], pedal pressed hard and off to Heathrow they Range sped.

Scrolling through his phone, Liam said. “Harry has been spotted at Heathrow by a fan and it looks like he’s already checked in!”

“Can’t you drive any faster?” Louis asked loudly to King.

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“He can’t leave!” Louis screamed from the passenger seat. “If he gets on that plane, I may never see him again for years!”

“That’s not true,” Zayn reassured his band mate.

However Nick knew Harry very well and he could pull a stunt like leaving for years. For crying out loud, Harry left his family over four years ago and he’s never gone back so if Harry got on a plane today, who knows when he’d see him next. And just for a moment, he felt bad for Louis. Just. For. A. Moment!

“Louis is right Zayn,” he said, sitting beside Zayn. “We have to stop him before he goes to Sicily!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 more chapter left for THIS fanfic.... but this story will be in four parts as stated in the beginning [:


	25. [Already Gone]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So it continues - it's a race against time.

_++_

_If tomorrow wasn't such a long time, then lonesome would mean nothing to me at all ~ **Bob Dylan**_

_++_

_ _

“Don’t go,” Louis called out to Harry – running to him would seem – who was sitting on one of the chairs at the airport gate, J89, ready to board a flight to Sicily. Louis knew if Harry got onto that plane to Sicily he was going to lose him, he would probably never see him ever again so it literally was now or never.

And Louis chose **now**.

“Louis?” The boy stood up, confused in seeing Louis in front of him, panting and gasping for his breath, in the blurry distance, he saw Niall, King and the others catching up to him. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t get on that plane, please,” he begged.

“What?”

“Do I have to repeat myself again? Don’t get on that damn plane Harry, stay,” Louis said, taking small steps toward Harry, finally getting his breath intact, “stay with me, here in London.” He heard a click in the distant, probably a fan taking a picture, going to comment about Larry Stylinson. But he didn’t care, he didn’t care if the whole wide world of the Internet got round to him being “extra bromancy” [what Modest called Larry Stylinson during their meetings] but he needed to, for Harry.

Harry inquired, “You watched it?”

“Yes, all of it,” Louis smiled, taking another step towards him. He, Harry, didn’t know what it was, whether it was years of crushing on Louis [and slowly falling in love with him], dotting his name everywhere possible, getting tattoos about him inked on his body so he could _feel_ it, or maybe it was the fact that Louis was here in front of him, talking to him about not leaving, that made him switch off what Louis was saying and taking in the environment. Or talking to himself. He noticed a group of teenagers in the far corner, whispering hush hush between themselves, others popped their eyes when he accidentally made eye contact with them, recognizing him instantly. He blinked and the place was nearly three-quarters full of fans.

 _So this was your plan?_ , his inner god questioned him. Harry nodded to him, looking at Louis’ mouth move.

 _How did I not figure it out? All this time you wanted to run away and I didn’t figure it out,_ his inner god ranted. _How? … It makes sense though. Is this what you were talking about with Caroline? When you said you that no matter what happens in your life, you need to keep dancing, always and forever, even when you change the music or if the world changes the music for you._

Mr X changed the music for me, Harry said to him. He glanced to his right seeing Nick, Zayn, Conor and Liam running to where Louis was. He added, And I still don’t know who Mr X is.

 _But you danced,_ his inner god noted. _And the whole world saw you dance._

Yes I did, he smiled. But the music has changed nevertheless and I can’t keep dancing here. I have to dance elsewhere. Because you know what they say, don’t dance better than others, dance better than yourself.

 _But you don’t have to dance alone_ , his inner god interjected smiling at all the people that truly cared about Harry, _you have all these people here for you_ , he motioned at the lads who stood before Harry, all smiles and whatnot, the fans who were still here even after he came out and at Louis, who was still talking to him.

I’m still leaving, Harry said, turning around and picking his duffel bag. Louis, however, startled him by standing before him, his face glowing under the fluorescent light.

“Get out of my way Louis,” he said, looking past him. If he looked at him, he would stop dancing and go home with him, he would leave with him because that’s who he was; even if he didn’t want to, he would do anything for Louis, even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness one _more_ time, he would do it in a heartbeat. He would drop his duffel bag down…

“No!” he said sternly, more to his mind than those around him. Well, now that he was talking he might as well continue. “I’m not staying Louis, not for you. Not again. For four years I could have run away but I didn’t because I stayed for you! Everything I’ve ever done it’s all been for you; the songs I wrote from our first album, Up All Night, were about you, our second album, you alone and yes _They Don’t Know About Us_ is about you and me Louis, or what could have been. The songs I sent Simon for our next album are all about you, _Don’t Let Me Go, Something Great, Happily_ and _Strong_ and right now I can’t think straight because you’re making me nervous but I’m going to keep dancing, keep-”

“I make you nervous,” Louis said more than questioned. Harry’s mouth dropped, stunned at what he just said, everything around him spinning crazily fast and just wanted it all to stop!

And it did when Louis lifted up the red rose in his hand to him. “I found this where you left it and I listened to everything you said in the video, everything that Nick told me, everything that Niall had been hinting to me all this time about Elounor and I’m sorry I never listened. I’m sorry I ignored all the signs that showed you loved me, signs that you were unhappy, I’m sorry if I made fun of gay people, I’m sorry I didn’t spend enough time with you, I’m sorry we stopped being as close as we used to before Eleanor came along, I’m sorry when I told the fans Larry Stylinson is complete bullshit, I’m sorry for not believing in Larry Stylinson when you did, I’m sorry for being Louis Tomlinson who apparently doesn’t read signs that the entire world could easily read, I’m sorry for being me and standing here I am sorry for apologizing when it’s too little too late… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything that went wrong in your life at my expense, I’m sorry for…” – Louis shook his head, his mouth forming an upside down smile, his eyes red from crying – “I’m just so sorry, I didn’t know… I didn’t know. ”

By the end of it, Louis was furiously wiping tears from his cheeks, Harry barely breathed listening to Louis, Zayn, Liam and Niall couldn’t believe their ears but most importantly, the media was there, capturing every single word. This was probably the first time Louis talked to him, him alone; times when they would both talk it was about something else like Eleanor, writing songs, shooting a music video, visiting his parent, funny stories that happened during his holiday… but now, it was about him. And only him.

Harry sighed, hating himself for being weak with Louis. “It’s fine, I forgive you. And you know what’s funny? If right now you removed a knife from your pocket and slit my throat, with one last breath I’d apologize for bleeding on your shirt.” Louis, and apparently the rest of London, stood stunned silence at what he just said.

“You would?”

He nodded.

 _Pick up your balls off the floor Harry_ , his inner god cried through glass walls.

But no, he wouldn’t stay! He had to keep dancing. “But you’re right Lou, it’s a little too late.

“No!” Louis shook his head rigorously, “please don’t say-”

Harry continued, blocking out Louis painful cries. “I dived too deep and too fast that … that I have to let you go. I have to be strong and move along just to make it through. I-I-I have to let you go.”

Louis pleaded, holding Harry’s hand with his smaller ones. “Please don’t let me go.”

Harry stood stiff at Louis who was now sit-crying on the floor, unable to convince Harry to stay. A fan from the crowd broke the silence. “Don’t leave him, Harry. You’re both Larry Stylinson.”

“We could’ve been,” one of the Larry’s replied.

Harry walked past Louis to the lady at the gate. Louis realized the people at the airport weren’t the passengers waiting to board his plane but fans! Everyone out here was for Harry and him. For him and Harry.

“Louis, do something!” Nick shouted.

 _Louis_ and _Harry_.

Niall joined in. “Louis get Harry!”

Harry **and** Louis.

“Don’t let him go,” Liam said, louder than the rest.

There was no way around it; it would always be.

And soon enough their cries to Louis were muffled by fans crying to Harry stopping him from walking through the gate door but security guards blocked them before they got close, a challenging task that they called for backup through the walkie talkies. Louis run both his hand through his hair, biting the inside of his cheek, wondering, contemplating what to do. He saw Harry giving his plane ticket to the blond lady, Nick and Niall shouting at him for letting him go, and now fans screaming “Larry” loud enough for Harry to stop and glance at them.

“You’re not leaving,” Louis screeched suddenly and ran towards Harry, past the guards and crushed onto his chest. It looked like something off a movie scene: Harry caught Louis by the waist as his hands flew around him, his duffel bag slamming the ceramic floor, the airport coming to complete silence. Phones and cameras were all pointed at Larry Stylinson, just the two of them because indeed, the world had stopped for them.

“I love you too,” Louis whispered, his nose bumping the gay one’s.

Harry was stunned, gasping before the entire airport did. “What?”

Louis figured it out! He understood why it always felt different whenever he was with Harry, when they cuddled together laughing at how people died on _1000 Ways To Die_ and he didn’t mind holding his hand like he would with Eleanor, when Harry would walk around in his boxers and all the breath in him would suddenly leave his body [damn Harry and his V-lines], when his hands were clammy when held Harry’s when buying drugs but he still would never let go, when he found almost dead Harry outside his bedroom door and his heart sank when he didn’t wake up, when Harry overdosed on drugs and each day after that he wondered if today was the last day he would see him. And finally today, when Harry, told the entire world he loved _him_ , him, he became really excited, delirious, stoked even! And he never got why but now he did.

“I love you,” he repeated, this time more firmly. He heard gasps from behind him and cheers all around him screaming, ‘Larry is real’. The noises stopped when he added, “I didn’t realize it before but I do now, I do love you. I’ve loved you this entire time but I guess I was just in denial” – he laughed nervously – “how can I be in love with my best friend right?”

Hands not leaving Louis’ waist, Harry said, “You… you’ve been crushing on me too?”

“Yes but I didn’t know it until now.”

“Liar,” Harry said. But in an ecstatic blink and gasp, Louis brushed his lips against Harry’s, shutting his eyes, and locking their magical lips together. Buzzes were heard on people’s lips, clicks from thousands of phones, flashes from paparazzi, tears from diehard Larry fanatics, tears from Directioners… all at once gushed like an open dam, when the two boys locked lips, when Louis tangled his fingers with the boys’ curls, it all seemed real. Massaging the back of Harry’s neck, Louis pulled the boy closer, kissing him harder than before. They continued kissing in a messy, hot kiss, screams and shouts above and all around them. Harry slightly lifted Louis shirt, revealing the dimples on his back, Louis breathing in Harry.

“Larry is real!” The crowd cheered.

He brushed his tongue lightly on Harry’s bottom lip, asking for entrance. Harry kept his mouth shut, sandwiching Louis Access granted and Louis wasted no time in his tongue dominating Harry’s mouth, his fantasies about Harry, coming true, one dominant fight for tongues at a time.

He whispered to his neck, “Do you believe me now?”

Harry shook his head, letting go him.

“Sometimes Louis, you lose more than you gain,” he said at the entrance of the pathway to the plane and slowly he danced away from Louis.

Away from everyone and everything, learning to finally dance on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks ! THE END
> 
>  
> 
> LOL jk nO! SO MUUUUUUUUCH MORE TO COME IN THE SECOND PART OF THE [HANGER IN A CLOSET] SERIES WITH: (SPIN THE HARRY) on my profile, just check it out [:


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